


Fall Through the Ropes

by CaptainAmelia22



Category: Captain America, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Burlesque, Children, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-16 06:51:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 83,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainAmelia22/pseuds/CaptainAmelia22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers is a man out of his time; when he wakes up from his fall in the ice he realizes he knows nothing about the modern world.  Adrianna Conti and her little brother Roberto help him find his footing as he comes to terms with his past and his future.  Has Steve finally found the right partners for his new life? (formerly titled "Ghost Woman Blues")</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Corner Man

Dark thunderclouds skudded across the New York City horizon and Captain Steven Rogers watched them absently as he walked through Brooklyn towards his favorite gym. Those clouds reflected his mood and his fingers clenched tightly at the thought of connecting with the hard canvas of the punching bags of Big Joe’s Boxing Club. 

His brows lowered over his ice-blue eyes and he hunched into his leather jacket as thunder rumbled ominously over the City. He probably shouldn’t have left his apartment today, but he’d needed a workout and he’d never done with sitting idle.

Plus, he still hadn’t figured out how to work the “television” and he really hadn’t wanted to find out today. 

So he’d taken to the streets without a damn umbrella and it looked like the storm of the century was bearing down on him. 

“Perfect,” he muttered, under his breath as the rain started to fall. “Just what I need.” He sighed mournfully as the rain slid down the arms of his leather jacket and he glanced around to see if there was a café or shop he could duck into for the duration of the storm. 

There wasn’t; the only place open at this time in the afternoon was a bar called The Alcott. He glanced around once more and seeing nothing, ducked into the bar, right as it started to hail. 

“Ya can’t stay here, buddy,” grumbled a janitor who was mopping the black and white tiled floor of the foyer. 

Steve just gaped at him and said, incredulously, “But it’s storming!”

The janitor rested his arms on the handle of his mop and shrugged, “So? Not my problem if you’re a dope and didn’t watch The Weather Channel before deciding to go for a jaunt.” 

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “The Weather Channel?” He dropped his hand and gestured around the dimly lighted room, “Can’t I just stand her until it stops hailing at least?” 

The old guy, grinning evilly, started to say something contrary but before he could, a deep woman’s voice spoke from the dark doorway leading off of the bar entrance. “It’s okay Artie. The guy’s not doing anything; let him stand here and wait for the storm to pass.” 

Steve turned to see a statuesque black woman leaning in the doorway. She was gazing at him thoughtfully and Steve squirmed, suddenly feeling like he was being sized up by this dame. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to burst in here; the storm kind of came out of nowhere and…um…” he trailed off as her dark eyes started to sparkle. 

“That storm’s been on the radar for most of the day, soldier; the National Weather Service has been tracking it since this morning. The only thing that came out of nowhere was you.” Her rich voice was warm with suppressed laughter and she turned away. Glancing over her shoulder she crooked a manicured finger in his direction and said, “Well come on, mister. Might as well be comfortable while this bastard blows itself out. The Nightingale’s going to do a sound check so you’ll have something to do other than twiddle those pretty thumbs of yours.” Her white teeth flashed in the darkness as she led him into a cavernous room.

Steve gazed around in wonder; The Alcott may seem rough on the outside, but on the inside it had the feel of an old-fashioned Vaudeville theater of his youth. Tiny cocktail tables dotted the room in front of a deep stage lit by old fashioned footlights and the dark wood bar curved around the back of the theater; everywhere were red satin curtains, gold details and crystal chandeliers. 

“Wow,” he said softly as the black woman settled in one of the bar stools. 

She laughed throatily and patted one of the stools, “It’s not much, sure, but it’s our little piece of heaven. Ever been to a burlesque before soldier boy?”

Steve snapped back to the present and stared at her with wild eyes, “B-burlesque?” he choked out, his palms suddenly damp. “This is a burlesque?!” 

The woman chuckled and patted his cheek, “Oh baby,” she said warmly as a man came out on the stage and set up an old fashioned throwback microphone. He tapped it sharply, testing for sound and nodded quickly before taking his place at the piano. The woman watched this and then turned back to Steve, “Hold onto your pants, mister, The Nightingale’s going to blow your mind.” 

Steve, still trying to process that he was in a strip club, just gaped at her as he tried to think of a way to leave the theater. Before he could do anything though, soft light captured the sleek, black, baby grand on the stage. Steve’s eyes were drawn to the microphone as a slender woman wearing a sleek, strapless black gown and white elbow-length gloves appeared. Her head was bowed and he shivered as her hands rose slowly to grip the microphone and stand. 

She nodded to the man at the piano and his fingers began to pluck a familiar tune off the keys. Steve tensed as the opening notes washed over him and his skin rose in goosebumps as the woman’s hips gave a little sway. 

Then she stood perfectly still as the soft jazz number began to swirl through the empty bar. Just as Steve was sure she’d forgotten her entrance she began to sing, her voice soft and smokey as she crooned into the mike: 

Summertime,  
And the livin' is easy  
Fish are jumpin'  
And the cotton is high

Oh, Your daddy's rich  
And your mama's good lookin'  
So hush little baby  
Don't you cry…

Steve was gone before the singer could finish the song; as he stormed back onto the sidewalk, not even caring that it was still raining, his eyes stung with tears. That woman’s voice whispered through his mind and he shivered. 

Why did it have to be that song? That stupid Gershwin? 

His hands flexed as he rushed blindly through the streets towards Big Joe’s and he fought off memories of sitting in Peggy’s tent listening to old records while they talked of what they hoped would happen after the War. 

They would never have their summer, though, because in the spring of ’43 he crashed a plane into an ice flow and slept for 70 years, his body still young and strong, while Peggy returned to England to grieve and eventually find a new life without him. 

His lips twisted at the thought as he slid through the doors of his gym; some of the men, the usuals, greeted him and he nodded briefly in their direction. But he didn’t stop to talk, like he would sometimes do when he arrived at the ring; he wasn’t much in the mood for conversation today and luckily for him he was left alone. 

As he got ready for his workout his mind’s eye was filled with the dual memories of a smiling Peggy and that singer in the bar and he found himself humming Summertime as he began warming up on the bag. 

Thunder rumbled over the city and as the evening dragged on Steve Rogers’ fury blew itself out until he was left with only the snippets of a half-remembered song and the bittersweet burn of tired muscles and bruised knuckles. 

He was almost happy that night, when he left the gym, and a small smile touched his lips as he walked slowly through Brooklyn towards his apartment. He was so preoccupied with the burn and pull of his muscles and his rumbling stomach he almost didn’t notice the sounds of a scuffle coming from the alley he was passing. That is until a rock smacked into the side of his head. 

“Hey!” he snapped, turning to see who had attacked him. What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks, more memories rushing in to paralyze his body. Before him three boys, all of bulky build, were ranged in a semi-circle around the fourth, smaller, boy who had his fists raised as he tried to defend himself from his assailants. This boy captured Steve’s attention right away; his nose was bloodied and his lip was split, but despite this he wasn’t backing down.

“Come on, you jerks! I’m still standing! Show me what you’ve got!” he shouted, his dark eyes wild with fear and pain. 

One of the boys, obviously the ring leader, laughed and took a step forward. The smaller boy scrambled back and reached down for another rock to throw at his attackers. It sailed over their heads and almost clipped Steve. He ducked in time and took a step forward, into the pool of light which lit the alley. 

“Hey, how about you punks find somebody else to pick on tonight,” he said, quietly. 

The three thugs turned to look at him, their faces slack in comedic surprise and the smaller boy bent to grab another rock. Steve met his eyes for a moment and then turned back to the bullies. “You heard me. Get out of here, or I’ll call the cops.” 

The ringleader snorted and pointed a finger back at the smaller child, “You better watch it, you little Mexican. Next time you won’t have your mommy to protect you!” He glared at Steve, but made sure to walk as far around him as possible. His cronies followed suit and Steve sighed as they faded into the shadows. 

Turning to the kid he’d just rescued he said, “You okay, kid?”

The child stared at him for a moment and then sagged against the brick wall of the alley before bursting into tears. Steve stood awkwardly for a moment and then rushed over to wrap an arm around the sobbing boy. 

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re okay! You’re safe now, those punks aren’t going to hurt you tonight! Hey, calm down.” He tried to find the words to soothe he boy but didn’t think he was doing a very good job.

Finally the kid calmed down enough to say, “Th-th-thank you, m-m-mister. I wasn’t sure I was going to get out of that one.” 

Steve chuckled and handed him the handkerchief from his pants pocket. “I take it this happens a lot?” 

The boy nodded as he gingerly blotted his nose. “It’s a weekly occurrence. My sister keeps threatening to find me a babysitter to walk me back from school but then I’d really catch flack, so I won’t let her. She’s too busy anyway to remember for long.” He trailed off with a sigh and Steve glanced out towards the darkened street. 

“Where is your sister now, kid?” he asked, suddenly feeling very protective towards this dark haired child who reminded him of himself from so long ago. 

The kid handed him his handkerchief back and bent to retrieve his backpack. “She’s at work now; she works nights at one of the local bars.” He shrugged into his backpack, wincing slightly as it rubbed against his bruises and he headed for the street. 

Steve followed, concerned, “Well, do you have anyone you can call? Parents? Relatives?”

The kid glanced at him and shook his head, “Not anymore. It’s just me and Anna now.” He shrugged, a sad smile on his face. “Anyway, thanks for your help mister.” And he turned right, heading for one of the apartment complexes in the distance. 

Steve rushed after him and said as he caught up, “Wait, I’ll walk you home, just to be safe.” 

The dark eyed kid glanced at him and smiled, “Should I be screaming stranger danger, mister?”

Steve frowned, “What? What’s that?”

The kid laughed and shook his head, “Never mind. I guess you’re okay.” They walked in silence for a few moments and then he said, “I’m Roberto, by the way, Roberto Conti.” 

Steve’s eyebrows rose and he said, “You’re Italian?”

The kid laughed, “Good job, figure that out all by yourself?”

Steve shrugged into his coat and muttered, “Sorry, I was just surprised.” 

Roberto laughed, and patted his arm, “Don’t worry about it big guy, I was just joking. Most people think we’re Hispanic so you’re doing better than most.” 

Steve chuckled and said, “I’m Steve, Steve Rogers.” 

The kid stopped; they were in front of his apartment complex now and he turned to face Steve. “Well it was very nice to meet you Mr. Rogers, even if it wasn’t the best of circumstances,” he said, holding out his hand for Steve to shake. 

He did and as the kid entered the passcode to get into the building he said, “You know, if you kept your fists up closer to your face, you could protect your nose better.” 

Roberto turned back to face him and Steve continued, “And if you spread your feet and turned your body just a smidge, you’d provide a smaller target.” 

Roberto’s eyes were wide as he said, “How do you know that?”

Steve smiled and shrugged in his coat, “Boxing’s kind of my hobby.” 

The kid smiled and laughed, “Would you mind teaching me some moves, Mr. Rogers?” he asked eagerly. 

Steve’s eyes widened in surprise as he considered what he’d just been asked; “You want me to teach you boxing?” he asked. Roberto nodded and Steve laughed, “Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt. It may keep you out of dark alleys.” 

Roberto laughed and raised his palm, “Slap me five, Mr. Rogers,” he crowed. 

Steve just stared at him, completely confused, “Five what?” he asked.

Roberto stared at him for a moment and then turned to go into the building, “Never mind. Where do you usually box?” 

Steve, still working out the “slap me five” reference, muttered, “Big Joe’s on Rose and Mulholland. I usually go over there around three.” 

Roberto nodded and said, “I’ll meet you there then! Thanks a bunch Mr. Rogers!” And with that he was gone. 

Steve stared at the door for a moment, still trying to process what had just happened. “Slap him five? Five dollars?” he mumbled as he turned to head home. 

Despite himself, he found he was kind of excited about his new boxing partner, even if the kid barely came up to his chest. Steve smiled to himself and began whistling the half-remembered tune of Gershwin’s Summertime. He didn’t even pause to think of his earlier panic at the Alcott today after hearing the song; his mind was full of strategies he could teach Roberto Conti. Suddenly, his second chance at life in the modern world didn’t seem so hopeless.


	2. The Combination

Roberto was up at 6 a.m. making eggs and bacon for breakfast when his sister Adrianna came home from her night shift. He glanced up from the stove and said brightly, “Hey sis! How was work last night?” 

Adrianna, or Anna as most people called her, smiled wearily and headed over to hug and kiss him. “Hey ‘Berto. It was okay, small crowd, but my new number went well. How was your night?” Her dark eyes scanned his face, noting the bruises and scabbed lip. 

Roberto squirmed under her gaze and said hurriedly, “It’s not what you think! Well, it is, but I’m going to make it better, okay Anna?”

She sighed and sat heavily in the kitchen chair. “’Berto, I wish you would just let Anita come to the school and walk you home; she wouldn’t mind and I would feel better-“ 

He shook his head and said, “Anna stop! I’m getting help, okay? You don’t have to worry about me anymore.” 

His smile made her narrow her eyes and she said slowly, “’Berto, what are you not telling me?”

He grinned and said, “I made a new friend last night.”

Anna sighed and rubbed her pounding temples gently; she really needed to go to bed to sleep for a few hours before her shift at the diner but this had to be figured out first. “Who is your new friend ‘Berto? I hope he’s a bodyguard.”

Her little brother slid a loaded plate of eggs and sausage before her as he said, “Well, he’s not exactly a bodyguard. But he’s going to teach me some self-defense moves after school.” 

“Well, what’s his name?” she asked as she took a sip of orange juice. 

Roberto started shoveling eggs in his mouth and he mumbled, “Steve. He boxes at Big Joe’s, you know, that old ring where a lot of the grampa’s go to shoot wind?”

Anna frowned, thinking of the shabby gym with ancient posters in the windows and nodded, “Yeah, I know the place. Are you sure that’s a safe place for a couple of kids to hang out?”

Roberto, knowing his protective older sister wouldn’t be too keen on the thought of her baby brother hanging out with a guy in his late twenties, just shrugged and fudged the truth a little bit. “He’s been going there for a while and he really knows what he’s doing Anna! Please let me do this! Please?” He never asked for much, knowing how much she’d sacrificed for him, but he knew she’d fold on this one thing. If it meant keeping him safe…

Anna gazed at him for a moment, noting his glittering eyes and the way he was bouncing in his seat; her solemn little brother hadn’t been this excited about anything since their parents had died. She sighed and finally relaxed; if Roberto was happy and if this new friend had put that giddy smile on his face, then what right did she have to question him? 

“Okay ‘Berto,” she said with a gentle laugh, “I hope this will help you. Just be careful, okay?” She picked up her fork and was about to start eating when she said sharply, “You should bring him over for dinner on my day off later this week-I want to meet your new friend.”

Roberto froze, his dark eyes wide, and then he nodded, “Okay, Anna. You’ll like him I think. When’s your day off?” 

Anna, her mouth full of eggs said, “Thursday. Birdie’s letting me have a night to ‘work on my number’” she air quoted the words, making her brother giggle and continued, “And Stan never needs me on Thursdays anyway, so I’m home free kid!” 

Roberto laughed and gave her a quick hug before leaving the kitchen to get ready for school, “Awesome. I guess we have a date on Thursday!” he said as he left the room.

She leaned back in her chair and shouted after him, “You two better wear tuxes!” 

He laughed and she smiled before turning back to her plate of eggs. Her eyes glazed as she thought of the show last night; it had been a small crowd, sure, but in the past few months their audiences had become rowdier and rowdier. It was irritating Birdie, who’d grown up in Brooklyn. She’d always run a clean establishment, she’d never had problems with the cops and she’d never had to consider hiring security personnel to keep her staff safe. 

Anna shuddered and set her fork down, her appetite lost at the thought of the cat-calls she and the other girl’s had received last night after their performances. Resting her head in her hands she sighed and wondered if Roberto’s new friend Steve would be willing to teach her some self-defense maneuvers as well. 

Smiling at the thought of a pre-adolescent boy teaching her how to throw a punch, she squared her shoulders and cleared the table. 

She’d go to the gun store down the road and talk to Mickey about setting her up with some mace or a Taser. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so exposed while coming home from work. 

With this reassuring plan, Anna walked down the tiny hall of their two-bedroom apartment and stopped by Roberto’s to say goodbye to him before he went to school. He was sitting at his desk working on one of his latest models, a Boeing B-17. She leaned in the doorway and cleared her throat, “Hey mister. Don’t you have a bus to catch?” 

Roberto glanced up at her, and grinned, “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” 

Rolling her eyes she came into the room and plated a kiss on the top of his head, “Touché, you little booger,” she said. She watched him glue the decals to his model and said, “That one’s pretty cool. Did you get that from Mr. Heathrow down the hall?”

He nodded, his tongue sticking out in concentration and she laughed. “Okay, well your bus will be here in fifteen minutes, booger. Don’t miss it. I have to go to bed, I’m dead on my feet.” She gave him a careful hug and turned to leave the room. 

Roberto set the plane down and followed Anna out of the room, grabbing his back pack on the way. “Hey Anna,” he called as she headed down the hall towards her room. 

She stopped and turned, a weary smile on her face, “What’s up?”

He grinned and said, “Everything’s going to work out, okay?”

She stared at him for a moment and then laughed, “Course it is. Now get out of here, you little punk. You’re going to miss the bus.” 

He laughed and waved before running down the hall and out the front door. She stood in the doorway of her bedroom and listened to the keys rattling in the lock and sighed. Finally, she moved into her room and sitting heavily on her bed she pulled open the nightstand drawer. Her fingers shook as she removed an official envelope bearing the New York Social Child Protective Services seal. She closed her eyes as she slit the envelope open and removed the letter addressed to her. 

Finally she gathered her courage and read the opening lines: 

Dear Miss Conti: 

It has come to our attention that the juvenile under your guardianship, one Roberto Conti, of whom you are related, has been reported as a victim severe neglect. His instructors at the St. Francis School for Boys have documented proof of violent markings upon your charge and after several discussions with said charge we have determined your care is at best questionable. Thus we are sending one of our Social Workers, at an undisclosed time during the next week, to assess the home life you provide for the child. It is paramount that you be present for this meeting; if not, you will lose custody of Roberto and a trial will be set for his new guardianship. 

Sincerely:   
Margaret Wainwright  
Director of Child Services, Brooklyn Office 

Anna stared at the letter for a long time, not even processing the words that swam before her. 

“What am I going to do?” she muttered to herself as she dropped her head in her hands.

No answer was forthcoming so she folded the letter up, shoved it back into its envelope and slid it into a book of Gershwin’s works. She sat for a second just staring at the wall, her body so exhausted she couldn’t even find the energy to cry. Then, she sighed and lay down on her pillows, determined to get at least a few hours of sleep before going to the diner. 

She didn’t sleep much though, her mind still swirling with Margaret Wainwright’s cold professional words. When she dozed off she had nightmares of faceless men breaking down the door of her tiny apartment and wrenching a screaming Roberto from her arms. Just as she was about to snap awake though, a shadowy man appeared in the doorway and attacked the faceless men, saving her and Roberto.

She sighed, her body finally easing into the bed as a sense of peace filled her and the starry man turned the saddest light blue eyes she had ever seen, in her direction and said her name. 

*

Roberto was bouncing up and down on his toes outside of Big Joe’s, waiting for Steve Rogers to show. He’d basically run from the bus stop five blocks away to the gym after school. He had been a bundle of energy all day, thinking of his evening plans; he’d barely paid attention in history (they were covering WWII German arms manufacturers now) and he’d actually gotten a scolding from his kind hearted English teacher, Mrs. Smith, when she’d caught him doodling boxing gloves in his journal during class. 

But he didn’t care; how could he worry about petty school stuff when he was going to learn how to box in a gym that had been around since the 40’s? If there was one thing Roberto Conti loved more than his sister or the board game, Risk, it was history. More specifically the history of World War II. He had more books and documentaries on the War than anything else and if he had a choice in the movies he and Anna watched occasionally together, they would be about the War. 

Roberto bounced up and down a couple of times, ignoring the questioning looks he was getting from the old guys in the gym. He couldn’t enter unless he was with a member so he was stuck in the early April cold; not that he minded. It was a beautiful day in Brooklyn and for once in the past two years, things were starting to look up. He grinned as he thought, And all because I was getting beat up by the Mitchell brothers last night!

As he stared into the distance imagining his fist connecting with Gregory Mitchell’s bulbous beak a voice said from behind him, “You look like you’re going to bounce off the sidewalk, kid.” 

He spun around so fast, he almost did fall of the sidewalk. His eyes widened as he saw Steve towering over him; he’d forgotten how burly this guy was and how tall he was.

“H-h-hi Mr. Rogers,” he said, suddenly anxious that he would decide he didn’t want anything to do with a thirteen year old weakling. 

Steve gazed at him for a moment, noting the kid’s slender body and dusky Italian skin; a small part of him questioned this, still too buried in the history of his old life and he strove to shrug the soldier away. This was 2012, not 1942. They’d won the war and old enemies were now allies; he’d have to get used to that. 

Roberto’s smile faded a little under the solemn gaze of this giant and he shuffled a little on the sidewalk. “We don’t have to do this today, if you don’t want to Mr. Rogers,” he murmured, his shoulders slumping in disappointment.

Steve jumped slightly, realizing he’d upset the kid. “Call me Steve, Roberto,” he said walking to the glass double doors of the gym. He glanced over his shoulder to see the kid standing uncertainly on the sidewalk. Steve smiled and jerked his head towards the gym. “Well,” he said, as cheerfully as possible, “Are you coming in or not?” 

Roberto hesitated a moment longer and then smiled, “Definitely Mr.-Steve!” He rushed through the doors, his anxieties forgotten as he stepped into a little piece of history. His eyes widened as he took in the old boxing ring, duct taped punching bags which hung intermittently through the gym and the faded posters of by-gone boxers plastering the walls. “Wow,” he whispered, his skin prickling at the thought of all of the history this place contained. “This is amazing!” 

Steve glanced at him before heading to Joe Dugan’s office at the front of the gym; he still wasn’t sure what he was doing with this kid. How did you teach an eighty pound pre-teen how to box? He shook his head as he walked into the office to talk to the owner of the gym. 

Joe Dugan, Big Joe as everyone called him, was smoking his customary cigar and going over the books. He glanced up at the sound of his door opening and grinned when he saw the youngest member of his club walk in. “Come to sign up for a fight Captain?” he asked cheerfully around his stogie. He pushed his bowler hat back on his forehead and leaned back in his ancient chair, his faded blue eyes sparkling in the dim light of the office. 

Steve smiled slightly and shook his head, “No, not today Joe. I don’t want to risk hurting someone.” 

Joe gazed at him through the smoke of his cigar and thought of the punching bags he’d seen fly across the gym to smash into the opposite wall. Just from one punch of this guy. He snorted and tapped ash from the tip of his cigar, saying, “Yeah, that’s probably a good thing Cap. So what can I do for you today? You’re looking more lost than usual.” 

Steve shifted uncomfortably, and glanced through the glass windows of the office to see Roberto talking animatedly to one of the usuals. “I have an issue,” he said quietly, as he turned back to the owner of the gym. 

Joe’s eyebrow quirked and he glanced out the windows as well, to see the kid Steve had come in with talking to Grampa Peevil. “Huh. That yours?” He puffed and smiled as the Captain blushed. 

“No, no! It’s not what you think! I um, sort of promised to help him learn how to box, Joe.” Steve’s cheeks burned at the thought of Joe thinking Roberto was his son. He wished he’d never come up with this idea, that he’d walked past that alley earlier, that he’d not been the hero and decided to help some helpless kid. And most of all he wished that he wasn’t standing here right now with Joe Dugan. 

Joe smiled and stood, “Well, why didn’t you say so, bucko? This is an easy issue to have. Okay, this will be fun.” He clapped his hand on the Captain’s back (he only came up to the guy’s chest. Steve Rogers’ was a giant compared to most men) and led the way out of the office. 

Steve hesitated for a moment and then sighed before following the old boxer. Joe, cigar still stuck between his teeth, stopped next to Roberto who was still talking to the usuals, and said, “So, we’ve got a new recruit, I see.” 

Roberto spun around, his eyes wide as he took in the burly man standing beside him. His eyes darted to Steve’s, who nodded, and then he grinned. “Yes sir,” he said cheerfully, holding out his hand for the older man to shake. “I’m Roberto Conti.” 

Joe did, his eyes crinkling as he grinned, “Ah yes, the Conti’s! Your dad had that great Eyetalian place down the road. Your mom’s meatballs were to die for. I was sorry when the place closed down after they passed away a couple years ago. Your sister still going to Julliard?” 

Roberto, his cheeks ashen under this deluge of recognition, shook his head and stepped away from the older man in the bowler. “No sir,” he said softly, his eyes dropping to his scuffed Converse. “She couldn’t go to school and have guardianship of me at the same time.” 

All of the men fell silent and stared sadly at the boy. Steve frowned, his eyes darkening as Joe said, “Well that’s too bad. She had the prettiest voice, like a nightingale my wife always said. We were so proud of her, in this part of the neighborhood since she had that full ride scholarship to that school; wasn’t she going to sing at the Met?” 

Roberto nodded, his eyes darting around the gym and Steve hurried to interject, before Joe could bombard the kid with any more questions. “So Joe, what do you suggest we do with Roberto first? He doesn’t have any experience on the bags so…” he trailed off as Joe turned to him; Roberto smiled in relief at him and Steve nodded slightly. He’d try to keep the kid away from so many questions in the future. He obviously didn’t like talking about his family. 

Joe rubbed his chin, his faded eyes narrowing as he considered the kid in front of him. “Well, Captain, I’d say that instead of throwing him on the bag right away, maybe have him do some weights and some running, just to build up his stamina. He’s still growing so you’ll want to be careful, don’t work him too hard, but I’d say thirty minutes of weights and a half-mile to start out every day will do him wonders in building out. When you do put him on the bag make sure you wrap his hands really well. Don’t need any hairline fractures this early in the game, do we? Just keep with the basics first and don’t burn him out.” He grinned at Roberto and ruffled his hair, “Good luck kid. The Captain will teach you well.” All of the usuals murmured in agreement before turning back to their poker game as Joe prowled back to his office. 

Steve smiled gently at Roberto who breathed a sigh of relief as all scrutiny vanished. He turned anxious brown eyes to Steve and asked the first question that came to mind, “Why did he call you the Captain?” 

Steve grabbed his gym bag and headed towards the locker room. Roberto followed, hurrying to keep up with the older man’s strides, and he almost apologized for asking an obviously personal question of his new friend, when he answered. “I used to be in the Army, a long time ago. I was a Captain and Joe thinks it’s funny to call me that since I apparently look like an old war hero from back in the day.” 

He unzipped his bag and started getting dressed for his work out. Roberto frowned and pulled his P.E. uniform out of his back pack. He technically wasn’t supposed to remove it from the school grounds but he’d figured this would be better than his school uniform if he was going to be running around a gym. Getting dressed he asked, “Who was the old war hero?”

Steve hesitated, his fingers frozen on the shoelaces of his white sneakers; he glanced at Roberto and then said quietly, “Captain America.” 

The kid gasped, his head stuck in the neckline of his grey teeshirt and he said, “The Captain America? Like, the man who wore a mask and carried a shield and single-handedly destroyed Hydra? We’re learning about him in my history class this semester! He’s pretty much the coolest hero ever! I even have some of the old comic books they based off of him! I always thought he was just some guy they dressed up to boost morale.” 

Steve stared at him for a moment, kind of shocked that this kid was actually interested in such ancient history. His lips quirked as Roberto struggled with the tee and finally he reached out and yanked the shirt over the kid’s head. “Well, I don’t know about that. All I know is Joe almost had a heart attack when I came into the gym. His dad had apparently fought with the Captain and Joe had grown up seeing pictures of the Captain and his team of special operatives.” Roberto’s eyes were wide as he listened to this story and Steve sighed; it was bad enough lying to Joe, how was he going to lie to a child? 

He stood and headed out towards the gym. Roberto followed him, as eager as a puppy. He couldn’t wait to go home to peruse some of his books on the German war machine to see if he could find any more information on Captain America. Maybe tomorrow he’d be able to get permission to go to the library during his free period; he was sure he’d seen some books on World War II special forces in there somewhere!

He was so focused on his research plans he didn’t realize Steve had said something to him until the older man said sharply, “Roberto! Pay attention.” 

He snapped to attention, grinning sheepishly and said, “Oh sorry! I was just thinking.” He gazed around him; while he’d been daydreaming they had gone to the rear of the gym where some heavy duty work-out equipment was located. Roberto’s mouth went dry as he saw the dumbbells and heavy medicine balls. He turned uncertain eyes to Steve and said, “What’s first?” 

Steve’s lips twitched as he turned to some eight pound hand weights. “We’ll start slow today, that way you don’t over work your muscles.” He plopped them in Roberto’s hands and hid a smile as the kid gasped and almost dropped one. “They may be heavy now but you’ll get used to it within a few minutes. Ready?” The kid nodded, his eyes wide but his jaw firm with resolution. He was going to do this, and he was going to make Steve Roger’s proud.

Roberto set to it, keeping an eye on Steve, who had decided that he would go along at the same pace as his pupil. Roberto’s eyes widened as he picked up some fifty pound weights and began lifting them; Steve smiled, keeping it to himself that this was nothing and that he really didn’t need to lift weights to stay in shape. His smile slid from his lips, though, at the thought of why he didn’t have to work out like a normal man. If there was one thing he didn’t want his friends at the gym finding out or even this boy, it was the fact that he was a 94 year old super-soldier who had only emerged from the Arctic ice a month before. 

As the evening dragged on the two would occasionally chat; Steve asked about Roberto’s school, what classes he liked, what his favorite games were and what he liked to do in his free time. He made sure to avoid questions about his home-life, remembering how upset the boy had become under Joe’s earlier scrutiny. He couldn’t help being curious though about the sister who apparently had the voice of an angel. He didn’t ask though. It really wasn’t any of his business.

After lifting weights and working on some of the machines, Steve set Roberto some laps around the gym. The kid was a trooper, he had to admit as he jogged steadily next to him. He was obviously tired, but he hadn’t complained once and his eyes glowed with excitement and eagerness. He was strong too, despite his slender frame. He sort of reminded Steve of a teenaged Bucky Barnes, who’d been just as slender, but he’d been fast and one of the best wrestlers in the orphanage. Steve suspected Roberto would become just as strong in a short amount of time. 

When they had jogged around the gym for a while and Roberto’s breath was coming heavy and he looked like he was going to drop dead, Steve called a halt and let the kid get a drink and do a quick walk to cool down. By now it was nearly 5 and the usuals had wandered away to their respective homes. Only Joe remained, hidden in his office by a cloud of cigar smoke and the Wall Street Journal. 

Steve stretched, popping joints and watched Roberto shaking out tired limbs. “Want to learn some basic moves tonight or are you ready to call it quits?” he asked quietly as Roberto rolled his shoulders. 

The kid grinned and said, ever cheerful, “Let’s do it, that way I can show Anna tomorrow morning.” Steve smiled and waved over to one of the nearest punching bags.

Settling before it he showed the kid the boxer’s stance. Roberto mimicked him perfectly on the first try: feet a shoulder’s width apart, hips slightly cocked to the left and hands raised to protect nose and cheek. Steve gave him some quiet pointers, his voice calm in the still gym. He tapped the kid’s fists, telling him to keep them firm but loose, so he wouldn’t damage joints. He rotated his elbows so that his ribs were protected and he tapped the kid’s feet so he could settle in a steadier position. 

Standing back, Steve had to admit the kid looked pretty good. He narrowed his eyes and asked a very personal question, “Roberto, was your father a boxer?” 

Roberto, ecstatic that he had done so well tonight, frowned and said, “Well, I’m not sure, but I think he used to fight in Italy, before he and mamma immigrated to America. He never fought here though.”

Steve nodded and rested his hand on the bag in front of them. “That’s what I thought; a lot of this is instinctual and you seem to have a basic understanding of how to stand at least,” he shrugged and patted the bag. “Okay, throw a punch.” 

Roberto’s eyes widened and he gasped, “Really?”

Steve nodded, “Yeah, I’d like to see your form. You don’t have to hit it hard, just jab at it. Keep it short and snappy.” He took a step back and watched with a critical eye as Roberto settled into his stance and took a deep breath. Just when Steve thought the kid wasn’t going to hit the bag, his wrist snapped out and he smacked the bag. The gym rang with a faint retort as his knuckles connected with the battered canvas and the chains holding the bag jingled. 

Roberto laughed and bounced up and down on his toes, “That was so cool!” he crowed. 

Steve chuckled and steadied the bag. “That was really, really good Roberto. You have a good form. Okay, I think we should call it quits. I need to come up with a plan for our next session, all right?” He smiled at his pupil and clapped him on the shoulder. 

Roberto, his eyes sparkling, nodded and said, “Great! That was just so amazing Steve!” 

Steve chuckled and together they headed to the locker room. “It’ll just get easier and easier Roberto, believe me. You did great tonight.” They entered the locker room and started getting dressed in their street clothes. 

As Roberto was buttoning his uniform shirt he asked Steve, “So was this how you learned to box?” 

Steve stilled, his eyes going distant as he remembered he and Bucky sneaking into prize fights in this very gym, so long ago. “Sort of,” he said, quietly. “I never actually touched a bag until I was in the army; my best friend and I would sneak into prize fights when we were kids and we picked up a lot of technique from those matches.” 

Roberto’s eyes widened and he said in amazement, “Wow! That’s so cool! I thought prize fights had been illegal for like 40 years!”

Steve groaned internally and tried to backtrack, he didn’t get a chance though because at that moment a ringing noise erupted in the locker room. He jumped as Roberto dove for his backpack and pulled out a cell phone. 

“Hello?” said Roberto breathlessly. “Oh, hello Anita. What?” He rolled his eyes and sighed. “No, I didn’t die. I’m at a friend’s place, but I’ll be heading home soon. What? No I don’t need you to come and get me. I’ll be fine. Yes I know. Mmhm, Anna knows what I’m doing. Okay. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.” 

He sighed as he slid the phone in his pants pocket. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “That’s one of my sister’s friends. She will sometimes come and get me after school if Anna remembers to ask her.” He cringed slightly and Steve chuckled. 

“She sounds like an interesting lady.” He picked up his bag and followed Roberto out of the locker room. 

“My sister or Anita?” Roberto asked, with a snort.

“Both I suppose,” the older man said as the headed for the front doors. They waved to Joe, who winked and tipped his bowler hat. 

“They are. Anita used to work with my sister at the diner but quit when she got married. She and Anna are pretty close but they’re kind of annoying in my opinion; they’re always singing something obnoxious and if they have a day off together they’ll get girly magazines and a bunch of junkfood and take over our living room. They’re like teenaged girls sometimes.” Roberto sighed mournfully making Steve burst into laughter as they walked down the street.

“That doesn’t sound so bad to me; it sounds like your sister has a really close friend in Anita and they both obviously care for you,” he said, still chuckling. 

Roberto sighed again and shrugged, “I guess so. It always seems to happen on Thursdays though and on Thursdays the History Channel has this show called “War Machines” and I always end up missing it.” 

Steve was quiet for a few steps and said quietly, “But you enjoy having her home don’t you? Even if she’s doing something with a friend, you don’t get to see your sister that much so any time spent with her is precious, am I right?”

His piercing blue eyes settled on the younger boy, who grinned sheepishly. “I ‘spose so,” he muttered. And then he chuckled, “Speaking of my sister and Thursdays, she’s invited you over for dinner on her day off which is this Thursday. So you’re going to have to meet her and see for yourself how crazy she is!” he laughed at the bewildered look on Steve’s face and patted his arm gently. “Don’t worry, she won’t be too crazy. She’ll probably be half-awake for most of it, since she sleeps most of the day. So you should come.” He grinned at his older friend.

Steve considered for a few moments; it would be interesting to see Roberto’s home and the sister he so obviously loved and respected. Plus Director Fury had been pushing him to do something other than punch bags at the gym. Maybe this little bit of socialization would be enough to get the Colonel off his case.

Smiling he said, “All right, I’ll come over for dinner. What time?”

Roberto cheered and then sobered, thinking. “Well,” he said slowly, “Anna generally sleeps for a while during the day and then gets up to clean and run errands. How about you come over around 4 just to be safe?” 

Steve nodded and said, “Sounds good to me.” 

They walked the rest of the way to Roberto’s apartment complex in general silence, each consumed with their own thoughts. Steve found himself looking forward to Thursday and Roberto couldn’t wait to show his sister what he had learned. 

When they said their good byes, Roberto turned to Steve and said, “You know, Big Joe is kind of right. You do kind of resemble Captain America.” He smiled as Steve blinked at him in surprise. “That’s pretty cool. Well, good night, Steve. I’ll see you tomorrow!” He waved and went into his building leaving a bewildered Steve Rogers on the sidewalk.

Maybe this had been a bad idea, he thought as he turned to head home.


	3. The Glass Jaw

Anna was running late on Wednesday night; she’d gotten caught in the middle of a rush at The Greasy Pearl and now she had barely enough time to get to her second job almost 5 blocks away. Running through the streets, ignoring the angry shouts that came her way, she tried to keep from panicking. Birdy would cover for her, put one of the younger girls on first, but it would be close no matter what she did. 

The lyrics of her new song swirled through her mind, pushing her forward and she couldn’t help laughing as she plunged across Rose Avenue dodging taxis and bikes. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as a taxi nearly clipped her and she shouted back at the driver in angry Italian as she gave an extra spurt of speed. She didn’t make it. 

Just as she was about to duck around a delivery boy on a bike, a headlight blinded her and she turned her head in time to see a vintage motorcycle bearing down on top of her. Before she could move or even scream the bike smacked into her knocking her into the middle of the Avenue. The back of her head struck the pavement with a sickening crunch and as stars exploded behind her eyes and her vision began to go black the driver of the bike, a tall, strapping man with sandy blonde hair and the saddest blue eyes she had ever seen was leaning over her and saying something.

She didn’t catch what he said though, but she had time to wonder why his face seemed so familiar…

**

Steve hadn’t seen her coming; he’d been too engrossed thinking about his past three nights at the gym with Roberto. Luckily for this woman he’d seen her in enough time to slow the bike. He still felt like kicking himself as he carried her carefully to the sidewalk along Rose; a crowd had gathered making Steve very uncomfortable. He set her down gently, taking care to not jostle her too much in case she’d broken anything, and he pulled off his leather jacket wadded it up and put it under her head. 

He glanced around at the crowd surrounding them and said, “I didn’t see her, she came out of nowhere. Does anyone know who she is?”

Most of the people shook their heads, their eyes more curious than concerned and a few were taking pictures with their phones. Steve scowled, remembering his hatred for the modern cordless phones and snapped, “If you’re not going to help, you should just get lost. Give her some room to breathe.” He got some ugly looks after that but the crowd started to disperse, leaving a few concerned old-timers. 

A tiny woman hobbled up to him and knelt on arthritic knees beside Steve and his victim. Her fingers prodded expertly around the woman’s skull and she smiled. “Don’t worry, sonny. She’s just unconscious. She’s got a knot the size of an egg on the back of her head but other than that she’ll be okay.” She turned watery eyes to his and Steve squirmed at the vague recognition she saw in her eyes. “Do I know you, my boy?” she asked curiously.   
Steve shook his head, trying to hide his panic, “No ma’am don’t believe you do. I just got to Brooklyn a few weeks ago.” 

Before she could respond a voice groaned from next to them, “What happened?”

Steve’s eyes flashed to the woman at his feet and he said, “You ran out in front of my bike, ma’am. I hit you.” 

She groaned again, pressed a shaking hand to her eyes and said, “Well fuck! Now I’m really late. Birdy is going to kill me.” 

Before Steve or his elderly assistant could do anything, the young woman hauled herself upright and started to rise. Steve hurried to help her when he saw how dangerously she swayed. “Woah,” he said gently as she stood and then sagged across his chest. “Maybe you should take it a little slower?”

She shook her head and pushed off of his solid chest and pulled her waitress uniform straight, making sure the pink skirt covered her ass. “Can’t. Can’t miss work tonight,” she groaned as she started heading down the sidewalk towards Harrison Street. Steve glanced at the elderly woman still standing next to him. She shrugged and waved a hand after the girl. He nodded, scooped up his jacket, glanced at his bike to make sure he’d parked it right and then he ran after the dark haired girl he’d hit. 

“Wait up,” he said as he caught her. “You should probably go to the hospital,” he said quietly as she flashed a dark look at him.

“I probably should but I can’t afford to,” she said coldly. She was walking a little steadier he noticed and she didn’t seem to be in too much pain. He sighed in relief. 

“Are you sure? I can wait for your shift to be over and take you to a doctor, just in case.” He couldn’t help feeling responsible for her, even if she did seem to be perfectly fine.

She shivered in the chill April air and was about to say something to scare this big behemoth off, when he shook out his leather coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. She stiffened as his hands smoothed the coat over her arms and she glanced warily at him out of the corner of her eyes. His eyes were crinkled in concern and he was chewing uncertainly on his lip. She smiled and pulled the coat tightly around her, reveling in the rich smell of the leather. 

They walked in silence for few steps and then she cleared her throat, “Thanks for helping me. Most people would have run away or at least tried to play the blame game,” she said, trying to dispel some of the awkward tension.

He glanced at her and shrugged, “It didn’t seem right, just leaving you there. I was the one who hit you, it was my responsibility to make sure you were okay.” 

She snorted and hugged his heavy jacket around her, “You really aren’t from New York, are you?” she said with a wry smile.

He shifted uncomfortably, shoving his hands into his khaki’s pockets and said, “I used to be from Brooklyn; grew up here as a kid. But it’s been a long time since I was home.” His blue eyes swept the ancient buildings they were walking next to and he shrugged, “A lot has changed since I’d last been here; in some ways it’s a whole different city.” 

She raised her eyebrows at him curiously and said, “You act like you’ve been out of the city for decades instead of just a few years.”

He smiled sadly at her and shrugged again, “Sometimes it feels like I’ve been gone for seventy years.” 

She frowned and they walked on in silence for a little while longer. As they turned the last corner she stopped and turned to her companion, saying, “Well, this is it. I have to go through the stage doors.” 

She started to shrug out of the guy’s jacket, but he stopped her, “Keep it,” he said, his eyes gazing at her worriedly. “It’s supposed to get really cold tonight. You’ll need it.” 

She hesitated and then shook her head, “I can’t do that! How will I get it back to you?” 

He shrugged and said, “Don’t worry about it. I have more at home. Keep it as an apology, okay?” He closed her hand around the jacket and smiled. 

She jumped as his callused fingers rested on hers and she said slowly, “Well, okay. But if I come across you again I’ll be sure to give it back, all right?” He chuckled and nodded before he started to move away. She took a step after him and said, quickly, “Wait! What’s your name?” 

He turned back to her, a sad smile on his lips and he said, “I’m Steve Rogers, ma’am.” 

She held her hand out for him to shake, jumping once more as his rough palm pressed against hers; his hand covered hers and she couldn’t help a small shiver from darting up her spine at the feel of his strong fingers squeezing hers. “It’s very nice to meet you, Steve Rogers,” she said, her voice warm with laughter, “I’m-“

Before she could say anything, the stage door behind them was thrown open and a slender girl of Asian descent appeared on the stairs. “Hey!” she shouted in excitement, “You’re here! Birdy’s been postponing the Nightingale number for almost an hour! Where have you been?!”

Steve stared at the woman he still held hands with and tried to recall why “the Nightingale” rang a bell. The woman turned to him with a sigh and slid her fingers from his grasp. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I have to go. It was very nice meeting you Steve Rogers, even if it wasn’t by the most conventional means!” She laughed, and turned to rush up the stairs after her coworker.

Steve watched her go, his jacket streaming behind her, his heart hammering at the memory of her warm laughter and slender fingers rubbing against his. Curious to see where she worked, he moved around the old brick building to the front to see a very familiar sign lit in fluorescents. The Alcott it read and his heart stalled. 

This was the theater he’d hidden in during the storm the other day. This was the theater with the crooning shadow on the stage. Was the woman he’d hit tonight the Nightingale? His eyes widened and he found himself entering the burlesque. The bouncer, a burly man dressed all in black, glanced at him, took his cash and admitted him. 

Steve moved into the theater in a daze. His head was swirling and he couldn’t help the nervous fluttering in his stomach as he took a seat in the back near the bar. The theater was not crowded, but it wasn’t empty either. Quiet conversation buzzed and Steve felt himself relax; perhaps this would not be that bad. 

Just as he was getting comfortable in his dainty chair a spotlight lit the stage and the statuesque black woman he had talked with yesterday appeared. She smiled and sashayed her hips a bit, to the cheers of some in the room, and she said into the switchback mike, “Welcome everyone. I hope you had time to go to the bar to refresh your drinks during our intermission,” more cheers and she flashed a grin at them. “Excellent. All right, ladies and gents, this is the part of the night we all love. It’s getting to be that time of night when the city goes dark, and the tourists go to bed in their cushy hotel rooms, that the true music of New York City can be heard.” Cheers and whistles greeted her words and Steve leaned forward in his chair. The woman continued, “She trained with the best of our fair City and during the day she sings into the mike for recording studios but at night…” she paused with a soft chuckle, sashayed her hips once more to exuberant cheers, “At night, she is our very own,” another pause and a wink, “Nightingale.”

Cheers and whistles erupted in the theater as the spot went black and the woman slipped off of the stage. Steve, his skin prickling with awareness, tried to remember why he’d decided to step foot in this place. Before he could remember or even make his escape, a blue spot lit the stage pooling around a slender woman dressed in a silver gown of silky material. Her head was bowed, her dark hair piled elegantly atop her skull and Steve felt his heart stall at the sight of her gloved fingers rising to grip the microphone. He had just held those fingers a few moments before and his skin burned at the memory.

The Nightingale stood for a moment as the theater went silent and then she raised her head and began to sing a soft, moody song. Her voice was rough, full of emotion and as she crooned into the mike, her body trembled, making the silver gown ripple around her hips. Steve’s eyes closed as the words washed over him and he couldn’t help being amazed at the intimacy of this performance. 

“I caught a long wind  
A long life wind  
Like a swallow  
A night owl  
A little chickadee  
Sad sparrow  
Good morning bird  
Good nightingale  
I took a deep breath  
And caught a long wind”

As she belted the last line, the pianist wove an elaborate harmony around her voice and Steve wondered at how such amazing artists could wallow away in a burlesque. This woman had one of the most amazing voices he had ever heard while her accompanist could obviously play just as well as a master pianist. Her voice trailed away and she dropped her hands slowly from the microphone, an oddly sensual movement that stunned him. 

As the spot faded, the theater, which had been silent up until now, erupted into cheers. Steve gazed around in wonder, amazed that such a simple performance could evoke such emotion. He frowned and was about to stand to leave the theater when a dusky hand settled on his shoulder and a woman’s rich voice said, “Well, soldier boy! I didn’t think I’d see you again after your panicked exit yesterday!” 

Steve turned to see the statuesque black woman from earlier standing behind him. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and said “Sorry about that. I um…had some bad memories connected with that song.” 

“I kind of figured. You remind me of when my youngest brother returned from his first tour in Iraq; you have the look of someone who is a little shell shocked, a little amazed at still being alive. Am I right?” She smiled kindly at him, her dark eyes knowing. 

He hesitated before nodding and she sighed as she plopped into the chair next to his, just as another act entered the stage; the Asian girl he’d seen earlier came cartwheeling onto the stage in nothing but a corset and tutu. Cheers erupted again, but Steve didn’t pay attention. He was engrossed with this woman before him. 

“I thought so,” she murmured. “I’m usually a good judge of character and soldiers freshly returned from a tour all have the same look.” She sighed and then leaned back in her chair. Snapping her fingers at the bartender, she turned back to Steve and said, “I’m Birdy by the way, the owner of this fine establishment.” 

He nodded and said, “I’m Steve Rogers, ma’am.” 

She smiled as the bartender hurried over to them bearing two glasses full of some amber fluid, “Well, welcome back to Brooklyn, Steve Rogers,” she said as he set the glasses in front of them. 

Steve shivered at her words and downed the whiskey in one gulp; Brooklyn was certainly more interesting these days than it had ever been when he was a kid.


	4. The Sucker Punch

Anna rested her forehead on the heavy wood door of her apartment and sighed. Her hand rested lightly on the doorknob, but for right now she lacked the energy to twist it open. She gazed blankly at the keys hanging from the deadbolt and tried to fight the pounding in her temples. 

She should have gone to the hospital last night, but she just couldn’t afford the medical bills or the time away from the Alcott. Besides, what would they have been able to do? Prescribe her some painkillers and bed rest. Well it was finally Thursday and she had the day off. That meant she could sleep as long as she needed and she wouldn’t even have to worry about Roberto. 

Sighing, she twisted the knob and entered their tiny apartment. She sniffed appreciatively as the smells of frying eggs and bacon wafted over her and she smiled as Billie Holiday crooned from the record player. Roberto was up and at them then. 

“Hey ‘Berto!” she called as she set her purse down on the little table by the front door and kicked off her shoes. She slipped out of Steve Rogers’ leather coat and placed that over her purse, her fingers trailing over the supple leather for a moment. 

Her brother appeared in the doorway wearing one of Anita’s ridiculous Wonder Woman aprons and wielding a spatula. “Hey Anna!” he said cheerfully, his dark eyes sparkling. “How was last night?”

She smiled and pressed her fingers tenderly on the knot at the back of her head, “Oh it could have gone better I suppose,” she said as she followed him into the kitchen.

He glanced at her worriedly and set a glass of orange juice down in front of her, “Oh? What happened? Did you have a bad performance?”

He expertly flipped the eggs onto two plates and moved to sit across from her. She shook her head and said, “No, the Feist song went over really well. I um…had an accident.” She grinned as she took a bite of bacon and he stared at her in surprise.

“What kind of accident?” he asked, concerned. “Did you fall off the stage? Did your dress rip again? Come on, Anna! Tell me!” His dark eyes were wide making her chuckle. 

“Well, if you must know, I got hit by a really gorgeous guy on an old motorcycle as I was crossing Rose last night.” She rolled her eyes as he gasped. 

“You were jaywalking again! I bet you didn’t even look both ways, you just plunged across the street and dodged cars! How did you not die?” He sighed and shook his head.

Anna, used to him worrying about her, reached out to ruffle his hair, saying, “I didn’t die because the guy who clipped me was a real hero and decided to help me out instead of being a typical New York ass by driving away.”  
Roberto sighed and shook his head, “Mamma always said you’d meet your death at the front of a taxi. Maybe she was right.” 

Anna stilled and murmured, “It was a motorcycle and I didn’t die. Don’t worry about it ‘Berto.” 

They were quiet then; the only sound in the quaint kitchen the scraping of their forks on the plates as they finished their breakfast. Roberto fought back tears at the thought of losing his sister and Anna berated herself for making him worry; what was she thinking, telling him about her disastrous night?! She never told him her problems and here she was making the kid panic.

“’Berto,” she said finally, the silence weighing heavily on her. “’Berto, I’m sorry…”

He shook his head and pushed away from the table, “Don’t worry about it Adrianna. If you thought last night was fun, that’s fine. I just want you to know that I think you’re really immature and petty.” His dark eyes smoldered angrily at her and he stormed away before she could say anything else.

She sighed and rested her pounding forehead in the palm of her hands. “Ouch,” she muttered. “Chewed out by a thirteen year old. That’s just great.” 

She sat at the table, listening to her brother move around the apartment getting ready for school. When he turned off the Billie Holiday record she sighed and stood, taking the plates over to the sink to scrub them. She turned at the sound of him entering the kitchen and she jumped at the sight of Steve’s jacket in his hands.

“What’s this?” he asked, his eyes wide. 

She fiddled with the sponge she held and said, “Um, it’s the coat of the guy who hit me last night.”

“You took his coat?!” he said, completely shocked. 

Anna rolled her eyes and folded her arms, “No, you little punk. He let me borrow it because it was cold last night and I didn’t have a heavy coat with me. Why’s it matter to you?” Her eyes narrowed as he stared at the jacket in wonder.

He jumped, just as guiltily as she had, and said, “Um…guess it doesn’t matter. I was just um…surprised to see a leather jacket on the table I guess.”

She frowned, hearing the evasion in his voice and said, “What aren’t you telling me Roberto Conti?”

He shook his head and hurried away, “Nothing! Nothing! I uh have to go!” She followed him out of the kitchen and watched in confusion as he grabbed his backpack, threw the coat haphazardly onto the table and tore out of the apartment.

“Okay,” she said slowly, glancing at the clock on the wall. He still had 20 minutes to go before his bus arrived. “That’s a little odd.” She bent to pick up the fallen coat and absent mindedly brought it to her nose to inhale some of the scent at the collar. 

Then she sighed and carried it over to the coat rack to hang it up. Her fingers once more trailed over the supple leather and she shivered at the memory of its owner settling it over her shoulders.

Before she could analyze hers or Roberto’s actions, she moved into the kitchen to finish washing the dishes. Then, that chore done, she prepared for a day of relaxation. She gathered her shower stuff and turned on the water, her mind still preoccupied with her little brother’s odd behavior.

Sighing, she stepped into the steaming shower and started washing away the grime of the diner and theater from the day before. Her mind drifted and she found herself humming Summertime as she lathered her thick hair; for some odd reason that song made her think of Steve Rogers and his sad blue eyes…

Snorting she rinsed and turned the water off. She’d never see that man again, she should stop thinking about him. She’d put his coat away and try to forget this past night’s misadventures. She had more important things to worry about.

She shivered at the thought of the letter hiding in her bedside table and tried to tell herself that everything would work out. Wrapping a towel around herself she walked slowly down the hall towards her bedroom; pausing by Roberto’s room she glanced in and gazed thoughtfully at the models scattered around the room. There were planes, tanks, Jeeps, and soldiers in various poses. On one shelf there was even a special edition G.I. Joe doll their dad had gotten for him when he was little. Frowning, she moved into the room, avoiding the books scattered on the floor, and approached the shelf. 

The doll, one of the last presents their father had given Roberto, bore a round shield with a silver star in the middle of red, silver and blue stripes. His face was masked by a helmet with an A engraved on the forehead and tiny wings flanked the sides. She frowned as she took in its detailed facial features and she picked it up off of the shelf. The plaque at its feet read “Captain America: the First Avenger.” 

There was something eerily familiar about the doll and she found herself thinking that if it was made into a life-sized figure, it would look very much like Steve Rogers. 

She shivered and snorted, “Get a grip, Adrianna. You hit your head way too hard last night.” She replaced the doll hurriedly and rushed from the room, almost slamming into the doorframe as her foot connected with a book that seemed to be about the famous inventor, Howard Stark. She swore as her toes throbbed and picked the book up, her eyes skating over an image of Stark standing next to a tall, broad shouldered man in a military uniform. 

Snapping the tome closed she set it on her brother’s bureau and stalked from the room, muttering about messy teenagers in angry Italian. Her skin crawled at the thought of that doll and a sad eyed Steve Rogers and how similar they looked. But she knew that wasn’t possible. She must have a concussion, she told herself as she pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt with Julliard’s logo on the chest. 

She needed to sleep, to give her body a break. And she really needed to forget Steve Rogers and his nice smelling leather jacket. And she needed to do it pronto. She couldn’t afford distraction at this point…

As she curled up under her blankets and sighed as her body slowly relaxed into the mattress she remembered how sad Steve had looked when he talked of being away from Brooklyn for decades. There was something…interesting about that man, she thought sleepily as she yawned. She burrowed into the pillows, pulling the heavy quilt over her head, and sang a few lines of Summertime to the empty room: 

One of these mornings  
You're going to rise up singing  
Then you'll spread your wings  
And you'll take to the sky…

Her voice trailed away with a sigh and she fell into a deep dreamless sleep. 

**

Roberto spent all of Thursday trying to convince himself that that leather jacket on his sister’s purse wasn’t Steve Rogers’ jacket. It was just too much to believe if it was. He’d spent all week trying to find a good way to tell his sister that he had made friends with an older man who liked to box; if Steve was the guy who had hit her in the middle of Rose Avenue, she’d put a stop to his after school sessions faster than you could blink!

He worried and fretted all day, not even caring that he performed badly on his Geometry test or that his history teacher had asked him a question about special weaponry used by the Germans during WWII and he’d only shrugged and said he didn’t know the answer. 

How could he focus on school when he knew his sister was going to go ballistic after finding out he was being taught how to throw punches by the man who had nearly killed her?

Around 7th period, the second-to-last class time of the day, he took a deep breath and did something he had never done before in his life: he asked for permission to go to the bathroom in the middle of class. He pocketed his cell phone sneakily and hurried from the room, ignoring Mr. Scott’s confused look and rushed to the boy’s bathroom. Turning his phone on he pulled up the contact list and dialed Big Joe’s. Bouncing on his toes in the pristine stall of the bathroom, he prayed to all of the saints that Steve was still at the gym. 

Big Joe picked up on the fourth ring and Roberto sighed as the older man said around his ever-present cigar, “Big Joe’s this is Joe. What can I do you for?”

Roberto said hurriedly, “Big Joe? It’s Roberto Conti! Is the Captain still there?”

Big Joe chuckled and said, “Hey there kid. Sound a little frazzled today. The Captain you say? Nah, he’s not here. Left a few moments ago; said something about plans this evening. Hope you weren’t expecting to work out with him tonight, since he seemed pretty excited about said plans.” 

Roberto heard him draw on the cigar and he sighed, “Darn. I was hoping to ask him something. I guess it will have to wait. Thanks Big Joe.”

“No problem kid. Oh, kid, tell the Captain to get his own phone. I’m tired of fielding calls for him, I’m not his private secretary.” The older guy snorted and hung up.

Roberto couldn’t help smiling; Steve Rogers had a bizarre dislike of cellphones and refused to get one. Roberto had never understood it, but hey, the guy was brilliant in every other way so he wasn’t about to question his insanity. 

Sighing, he pocketed his phone and slid out of the stall. Turning to leave the room he smacked into the solid chest of someone who stood in front of the door. Straightening, his eyes widened as he took in a glowering Gregory Mitchell who stood cracking his knuckles.

“Well if it isn’t the little Mexican. How’s it going amigo?” Gregory Mitchell, his piggy eyes glinting in the bathroom lights, sneered at the smaller boy and prepared to have some fun before the end of the day. 

Roberto sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’ve told you before Mitchell, I’m Italian, not Mexican. Get it right.” 

Mitchell snorted and cracked his knuckles, “Italian, Mexican, it’s all the same thing. You all had to cross the border to get here so what’s the difference.” 

Roberto just stared at him and started to laugh, “How stupid are you Mitchell? How did you even get accepted to this institution? Actually,” here he paused and settled into the comfortable boxers stance Steve Rogers had taught him. “Who’d your mommy have to sleep with to get you accepted into this school?” He smirked as the older boy turned red and he laughed shortly as the adrenaline started to pulse through his veins. 

“Take that back, you little alien freak!” shouted Mitchell, his fists going up, his piggy eyes furious.

“Nope, don’t think I will,” Roberto said cheerfully, bouncing on his toes, his nerves humming as he waited for the attack. 

Mitchell roared at him and swung, Roberto ducked under the wild swing and snapped a quick punch into the older boy’s unprotected face. Mitchell shrieked as he felt his nose crunch, but he kept coming. Roberto spun around him, last night’s lesson still fresh in his mind, and he struck out at the kid’s kidneys, striking them firmly with a resounding smack. 

The older kid stumbled and smashed into the wall at the back of the restroom. Roberto, fists still up, started to laugh in disbelief-he had just kicked the ass of one of the biggest bullies in the school! 

Before he could celebrate too much though, the bathroom door opened to reveal Mr. Scott and Mr. Haber from down the hall. They stared at the vista before them, Roberto with his fists up protectively and a sobbing Gregory Mitchell clutching his bleeding nose on the bathroom floor and both men sighed. 

“What’s the meaning of this, Mr. Conti?” Mr. Scott asked, his dark eyes settling on the dark-haired boy. 

Roberto lowered his fists and said, “Sorry sir. I was heading back to class when Gregory decided it would be fun to pick on me a little bit. I think I gave him a run for his money though,” he finished with a grin. 

Mr. Haber raised his eyebrows as he took in the small boy and said in genuine disbelief, “You hit a freshman, Mr. Conti?” 

Roberto shrugged, “Well it was either that, or get my nose broken,” he said, still grinning. He couldn’t believe he’d done that! He couldn’t wait to tell Steve, he’d be so proud of him!

Mr. Scott sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, Mr. Mitchell you know the consequences of fighting on school grounds. I think we should have a visit with the Headmaster. Come along boys.” 

Roberto froze, his eyes wide. “What?” he gasped as Mr. Haber moved to help a still sobbing Gregory Mitchell up. “Why do I have to go?”

Mr. Scott gestured for him to leave the bathroom and said, “You were fighting, Mr. Conti, even if it was in self-defense. That’s against regulation; you’ll have to talk to the Headmaster.” 

Roberto’s heart plunged and he groaned. What was he going to say to Anna? He’d never gotten into trouble before! His shoulders slumped as he moved down the hall with his teacher’s and Gregory Mitchell. He almost punched the older boy again when he sneered over his shoulder at him, but he didn’t want to risk getting expelled. Then he really would have failed his sister…

**

Steve pressed the button reading “543b” promptly at 4 on Thursday evening and tried to calm his fluttering nerves; while he’d been awake for a little over a month, he’d had very limited contact with the civilians of New York City. Roberto and the guys at the gym had been the extent of his socialization, despite Director Fury’s suggestions that he get out of the City or at least settle at SHIELD headquarters. 

Steve hadn’t wanted to follow the Director’s advice though. A small part of him blamed the man for digging him out of the ice, for waking him. So here he was, about to have dinner with a family who knew absolutely nothing about him. 

He smiled wryly as the door buzzed open and he took to the stairs. Tonight was sure to be interesting and as he arrived on the 5th floor landing, not even breathing hard, he wondered what Roberto’s sister was like. He supposed she was a very head strong dame, considering she had been raising her baby brother for two years while working two jobs. He was thinking that he’d have to tread carefully, so as not to scare her, when the door swung open after his second knock. 

His eyes widened as a familiar woman appeared in the doorway. 

“You!” he gasped at the same time as she said, “What the hell?!”

Then the door of 543b was slammed in his face and the lock was thrown. Steve stood on the landing outside of the Nightingale’s door, a comical expression of shock on his face as he tried to process the fact that Roberto’s sister was the singer from the burlesque.


	5. The Shoe Shin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one guys! 
> 
> Thanks for the interest in this story. It means a lot. 
> 
> Please keep reading and thanks again.
> 
> -M

As Steve stood in front of the Nightingale’s door, shock still plastered on his face, the elevator at the end of the hall dinged and a familiar voice said, “Steve? What are you doing there just staring at my door?” 

His head turned slowly as Roberto came up beside him and he choked out, “Roberto is your sister a singer at the Alcott?”

Roberto frowned and said, “Yeah, she is. She’s one of the few singers at the theater. Why?”

Steve laughed and ran his hand through his hair, “I heard her sing last night,” he said quietly. 

Roberto remembered his earlier panic and gasped, “You were the one who hit her with the motorcycle!”

Steve turned to him and said, “She told you that?” his blue eyes were wide and he cringed when the kid nodded.

“Yeah, she did. I was really hoping that wasn’t you. Oh man, this is not good,” he groaned as he ran his hands through his hair. “What are we going to do?”

The door swung open at that point and Anna, dressed in jeans and the Julliard t-shirt glared at them. “Well, you can invite him in first, instead of standing on the landing discussing how truly screwed you two are,” she snapped, gesturing for them to come into the apartment. 

Roberto shifted for a second and then glanced at Steve, “I guess we should get this over, Cap,” he said, forlornly.

Steve, even more on edge now that he knew who’s home he was visiting, nodded and followed the kid into the apartment. As he walked past the kid’s sister, her warm scent washed over him and his skin prickled as he remembered holding her hand. His mouth went dry and he tried to push the memories away. 

Before he could though, he blurted, “How’s your head?”

She stiffened as she closed the door behind him and said coldly, “It’s just fine, thank you.” She moved around him then, careful not to brush against his arm. He flinched at her chilly demeanor and followed her into the living room. 

His eyes scanned the room quickly taking in the old record player, the wall of bookshelves full of books and memorabilia. It was just as quaint as the rest of the place but the personality of the inhabitants of this home filled it; several shelves were full of books on the War, those were Roberto’s he knew, while the walls were covered in posters of great singers from throughout history. That would be the Conti woman’s touch, he supposed. 

Said woman was standing in the middle of the room, in front of the couch in which Roberto sat. Her arms were folded under her ample bosom and her feet were spaced a shoulders-width apart. He knew from looking at her, that she would be just as good of a boxer as her little brother. 

He swallowed, trying to get some moisture back in his mouth, and started to say something, when she interrupted him. “Before you say anything, I want to know right now what you and my brother have been doing.” 

Steve stared at her and then glanced at Roberto; the kid shrugged so Steve sighed and said, “I don’t know how much he has told you ma’am, but I offered to teach him how to box so he could defend himself against bullies.” 

Her dark eyes narrowed and she said, “That’s it? You’re not some predator who preys on helpless kids?”

Roberto snorted and said, “I’m not helpless, Anna.”

She snapped her fingers at him and continued glaring at Steve, “What does it matter to you if a kid can’t protect himself? You’re not his parent, not his guardian. You shouldn’t have to concern yourself with his well-being.” 

Steve shifted, remembering her surprise last night that he had stuck around to help her. “I figured if I’m able to help I might as well. Plus he’s a good kid and deserves a chance at protecting himself,” he said, suddenly calm as he understood her panic. “I wanted to help him because when I was his age no one helped me.” His blue eyes were sad as they gazed into her worried brown ones. 

Anna stared at him for a while longer, trying to find it in herself to distrust this man. She couldn’t though; his soft voice and kind deeds spoke too highly of him. She glanced at Roberto and sighed as she saw the hero-worship in his eyes. 

“All right,” she said slowly. “As long as you swear to me you’re not some creepy stalker who’s going to steal him away from me, I suppose this can work.” Her dark eyes gazed at him worriedly and he smiled. 

“I swear to you, Miss Conti, that I have no ulterior motives; besides, even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to do anything to Roberto. He’s learned too well, just in one week.” He chuckled as the kid grinned at him.

Anna relaxed even further, as his laugh washed over her, trusting him, despite her earlier panic. She couldn’t believe he was standing in her living room, that this had been the “new friend” her brother had told her about at the beginning of the week. She took his broad shouldered mass in and couldn’t help an appreciative little shiver from flitting up her spine. 

She sighed and dropped her defensive stance; moving over to stand in front of him, she held her hand out and said, “Hi, I’m Adrianna Conti. But you can call me Anna.” She smiled as he took her hand, her dark eyes lit as he squeezed her palm gently.

Steve, relishing once more the feel of her hand in his, smiled and said, “Hi Anna, I’m Steve Rogers.” 

They stood like this for a few moments, their skin tingling and Steve struggled to say something clever. Roberto stared at them for a moment and then cleared his throat, saying, “So, what’s for dinner Anna?” 

She jumped, tearing her hand from Steve’s and turned to her younger brother. “Well,” she started with a sheepish grin, “I honestly forgot about our plans bud so I haven’t started dinner yet.” Her cheeks flushed a dusky rose as she glanced at Steve out of the corner of her eyes. “Sorry, I’m a horrible hostess.”

Steve smiled and said, “That’s okay, you got hit by some idiot on a motorcycle last night. I’m sure it took you a while to recover from that.” He shivered as she laughed warmly. 

“I suppose that’s true. Some drivers in this city just don’t know what they’re doing,” she said cheekily as she left the room. “How about spaghetti and meatballs, ‘Berto? Does that sound good tonight?”

Roberto jumped off of the couch with a cheer and she laughed again from the kitchen. “Change out of that uniform before you come in here mister,” she shouted as he rushed down the hall. 

Steve, uncertain of what to do in this suddenly domestic situation, hesitated before heading into the kitchen. She had her back to him and he couldn’t help appreciating the view of her from the behind. She glanced at him over her shoulder and said, “You don’t have to help, Mr. Rogers, you’re company.” 

He smiled and said, “Please, call me Steve. As for cooking, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be much help anyway. I’m terrible in the kitchen.” He held up the bottle of wine he’d bought at the grocery store near his apartment and said, “I do know how to chill wine though. Want me to stick it in the fridge?” 

She laughed and nodded, “That’d be perfect Steve, thank you! You really didn’t have to bring anything.” 

He shrugged as he set the bottle on the top shelf, “It seemed only fair.” He glanced around the kitchen, taking in the bright yellow cabinets and the photos covering the walls. “Was this your family’s restaurant?” he asked as he leaned in to inspect one of the pictures. 

Anna stilled, in the middle of filling a pasta pot with water. Her dark eyes darkened even further as she nodded. “Yes, that was Poppy’s restaurant. He ran that place until the day he and Mamma died.” The pot full she set it on the stove and started the water to boiling. Steve watched her carefully, noting how stiff her shoulders were and how she avoided his gaze. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I didn’t mean to offend you.” 

She turned to him hurriedly and said, “Oh no! You didn’t hurt my feelings or anything! I um...well I’ve had a hard week and I just find myself wishing they were still here so they could help me out in all of this.” She sighed, a small smile on her face.

Roberto arrived at that moment, wearing jeans and a school t-shirt and Anna plastered a grin on her face, “Okay mister. How about you show your friend there how to make real Italian meatballs okay?” 

Her brother laughed, “Awesome! This will be fun! Are we using Mamma’s recipe?” 

She snorted and smacked his head lightly with her wooden spoon. “Duh,” she said, “Is there any other recipe?”

He laughed and started pulling ingredients out of the fridge and pantry “I guess not,” he said. 

“Damn straight,” she said as she turned back to the stove. 

Roberto waved Steve over to the kitchen table and said, “Don’t look so worried, Steve. We did this all the time at the restaurant when we were kids. I’ll show you the right way to do it.” 

Steve nodded and slid out of his jacket. “Okay, but if I mess up you’re not allowed to make fun of me,” he said with a laugh. 

“Oh we will, we’re Italian,” Roberto said as Anna laughed. “Let’s do this, Captain! We’ll show her who the better cooks are!”

Anna snorted and pointed her spoon at them imperiously, “Bring it on, boys. Bring. It. On.” 

All three burst into laughter and they chatted happily as the dinner slowly came together. At one point Roberto jumped up from the table and put on a Duke Ellington record; the rowdy jazz filled the apartment and Anna began to sing along with the Duke, her voice weaving in and out of the recording with ease and Steve found himself watching her at the stove more than helping Roberto roll meatballs. 

Not that the kid minded; he just liked having his sister home for once and he liked having this man in the kitchen. For some reason it just felt…right. 

**

Dinner progressed well and the three had settled comfortably together. Steve had not smiled or laughed this much in…well, years…and he found himself enjoying this brother/sister duo more and more as the night went on. He and Anna had made their way through most of the bottle of wine and while it didn’t have an effect on him, he could feel himself relaxing in her presence. 

Her warm laugh and her gentle teasing reminded him of the women he had known during the War; her dark eyes sparkled in the bright lights of the kitchen as she joked with Roberto or told Steve silly anecdotes of working in a burlesque.

At one point, in the middle of thirds and about the fourth glass of wine, Steve had found the courage to say, “I’ve heard you sing twice now, Anna. You have a beautiful voice.” 

She’d stilled, her fingers tightening around the wine glass she held and she’d said slowly, “Oh?” 

He’d nodded and flushed, “I especially liked the song you sang last night,” he said, his voice quiet.

She’d smiled and patted his hand, “Thank you Steve, that means a lot.”

Roberto, his mouth stuffed with pasta, had said, “Did you sing the Feist song last night? I like that one, it’s very pretty. Can’t believe Birdy let you sing something that wasn’t from the 40’s.” 

She’d rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, you heathen. And I know, I think I persuaded her last night. Mike and I did a great job with it.” She glanced at Steve and smiled, “Mike’s my accompanist; he helps me out a lot when I perform.” She leaned back in her chair, curling her legs underneath her and watched the guys eat some more pasta. 

Steve wiped his mouth with his napkin and said, “He’s an amazing player.”

She’d nodded and said, “Thanks, we think so too.” 

After that they had moved on to other things and as the dinner drew to a close she excused herself so that she could work on a number she was supposed to start doing for the show. 

Steve watched her leave the kitchen, the appreciative look back on his face and he jumped when Roberto kicked him from under the table. “Hey, doe eyes! Want to help me do the dishes? And then we could play a game!” 

Steve nodded, his cheeks reddening slightly, “Sounds good, kid.” 

He and Roberto were washing the dishes and listening to Anna singing Stardust with Hoagy Carmichael when the door buzzed. The music stopped and Roberto turned, a frown on his face as he saw Anna rush to the door. “Wonder who that is,” he muttered. Steve, sensing the kid’s unease, tensed as well and moved to the doorway to see who was visiting the Conti’s.

Anna stood in the doorway, her back stiff as the woman on the landing said, “Miss Conti? I’m Julia Fullton from New York Child Services. I’m here to conduct an analysis of Roberto Conti’s home life. You should have received a letter stating my presence.” 

Anna folded her arms and said, “Yes, I did. I didn’t realize it was going to be so soon.”

Julia Fullton fiddled with the clipboard in her arms and tried to not be discomfited by the slender woman standing in front of her. “Um yes, it said it would be within the week. May I come in?” Her eyes darted to see a towering man standing behind the Conti woman and she paled slightly. She hadn’t been told there was a male presence at this residence. 

Anna, seeing her discomfort, glanced over her shoulder and saw a frowning Steve Rogers standing in the kitchen doorway. Turning back to the social worker she said with a feral smile, “Oh that’s just a family friend. Don’t worry about him Ms. Fullton. He’s just over for spaghetti and a game of Risk.” 

Ms. Fullton relaxed and smiled shakily, “Oh, I see. Well, may I come in?”

Anna, seeing no other options, moved aside and prayed fervently to all of the saints that tonight would go well. As she passed Steve on the way towards the living room he caught her hand, stopping her. “Should I leave?” he murmured to her, leaning his head down so his lips rested close to her ear. 

She shivered and shook her head, “Please don’t,” she begged, clutching his fingers tightly. “I don’t know if I can do this alone.” 

He nodded, his blue eyes wide with concern and he squeezed her fingers reassuringly. “Right,” he murmured. “I’ll keep Roberto relaxed then.” 

She smiled in relief and as he released her fingers, breathed, “Thank you.” She then hurried into the living room, her mind spinning as she tried to figure out how she was going to convince this mousy woman that she was a good guardian and that her brother should not be removed from her presence. 

She wasn’t sure how she was going to do it.

Steve knew he should be uncomfortable; after all this was the first time he had actually interacted with people in a strictly domestic way, and his actions were being studied by a government employee. But he couldn’t be uncomfortable. Not with this child or his older, fascinating sister. And besides the social worker was so tiny and unobtrusive he’d honestly forgotten her presence ten minutes into the confusing game of Risk he and Roberto had started. 

Anna had curled up on the couch behind him (they’d spread the game out on the floor, seeing as how the board was so big) and if Steve wasn’t careful, her scent would wash over him and make his head spin. She was reading a book on Helen Forrester and the Canaries of the 1940’s and every now and then she’d hum a bit of whatever song was going through her head, pushing memories onto him. 

Steve’s fingers clenched as she sang a lyric from Skylark under her breath and he tried to not think of Bucky and the Commandos in that British pub at the start of their long mission in Switzerland. He jumped when Roberto crowed, “Hey! I beat your army in Italy, Cap!” 

He groaned as the bright red armies replaced his blue and he said, “You’re just as sneaky as the Russians, Sergeant.” 

Roberto snorted and said, “Shouldn’t I be a general by now?” 

Anna, half-paying attention, turned a page and said, “Thirteen year old dictators have to start small, young one. Once you take Steve’s armies in Britain, then you can be a general.” 

She chuckled, her breath warm on the back of Steve’s neck and his hair stood on end as he felt her shift on the couch. Risking a glance at the social worker sitting under the windows, he moved away from the couch, just enough so he couldn’t feel her every move. 

Roberto studied the board, a frown wrinkling his brow and he groaned, “I don’t think I’m going to be able to take Britain without losing most of my men.” 

Steve smiled and said, “That’s history for you.” 

Roberto sighed and then yawned; Anna glanced at him and said with a chuckle, “I think this war will have to wait, ‘Berto. It’s nearly your bedtime.” 

He groaned, flopping backwards onto the floor and said, “Why?! Steve’s still here and I know you two are going to stay up to talk about me. Why do I have to go to bed?” 

Anna smiled and closed her book; swinging her legs off of the couch she sat up and said, “You have to go to bed because tomorrow is Friday and you have school. And Steve’s only going to be here for a little while longer that way we can have a quick chat before we both go to bed, okay?” Her dark eyes darted to the social worker who was writing something in her clipboard. 

Steve, acutely aware that her leg was resting against his shoulder, sensed her tension and said as cheerfully as he could, “You won’t be missing much, I promise Roberto. We’re just going to talk about grown-up things like arthritis and tax returns.” 

Anna stifled a laugh as Roberto sat up and said, “Ew, that sounds gross.”

Steve nodded, “It really is.”

The kid sighed and said, “Okay, bed. I’ll see you in the morning Anna. And I’ll see you tomorrow after school Steve!” He stood up and rushed down the hall towards his room. 

Anna chuckled and sagged against the back of the couch. “Arthritis and tax returns, huh?” she said with a sideways grin as he hauled himself up and sat next to her. 

“I don’t have much experience with kids, but when I was growing up, that’s what my buddies and I would do when we wanted to get rid of the younger kids.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, missing the curious look she shot him. 

Before she could say anything the social worker stood and cleared her throat, “Well, I think I’ve seen enough for now Miss Conti,” she smiled as Anna sat forward. “As far as I can tell the child is under good care; he is obviously well fed and his living quarters are acceptable. I do have to ask though, if he has experienced physical abuse from someone under this roof?” Her watery green eyes darted from each adult and Anna gasped.

“What?! No! How could you think that? He’s my baby brother!” she stood, her hands clenched tightly at her side and Steve grabbed her wrist gently, just in case she decided to attack the woman.

Her eyes caught his movement and turned to him. “And you Mr. Rogers?” she asked quietly.

Steve clenched his teeth at her cold tone and said stiffly, “I’m sorry ma’am, but I’ve only known Roberto for a little less than a week. And I only met Miss Conti last night. I’ve recently arrived in Brooklyn.”

She frowned, taking in the two young people before her and said “But you seem to know the child so well.” 

Steve sighed and stood, as he said, “I’m teaching Roberto how to box. He seems to be having issues at school with bullies and I came across him being attacked by some students of his school the other night. I offered to teach him some self-defense maneuvers so he could protect himself in the future.” 

Anna sighed at his calm voiced and silently thanked all of the saints for sending this man to her brother. The social worker shifted and rustled some papers on her clipboard. “That’s interesting,” she murmured. “The reports don’t mention bullies.” 

Anna snorted and folded her arms, “I’m not surprised. I’ve reported it several times, but seeing as how the perpetrators are children of the school board it’s easier for them to blame me, a guardian, than it is to confront rich parents about their stupid children.” She was bristling and Steve gazed at her in amazement.

She was glorious when angry…

“Well,” muttered poor Julia, “I’m going to have to report this. I will have to analyze this situation more closely. I will make sure I mention in my report that your care while not consistent is most definitely not questionable; we understand your situation and we do not wish to remove the child from his family. I would maybe suggest a change of your work schedules so that you are more available during the week, but if Mr. Rogers is to become more of a presence for your brother, then perhaps that will be enough to keep him safe. If I am being honest, he’s rather like a Big Brother; perhaps you should consider volunteering, Mr. Rogers.” She smiled as she fiddled with her purse and met their gazes. “I’m sorry it had to come to this Miss Conti. You will be receiving a report in the mail. Consider my advice and know that I will do everything in my power to keep your brother in your care.” 

Anna relaxed, a relieved smile flashing on her lips, “Thank you, very much. Let me show you out.” 

Steve sat heavily on the couch and watched the women leave the living room. He couldn’t help feeling like he’d done something right, that he’d helped this family out a little bit. 

He smiled wryly at that; even at 94 years old he was still a superhero. 

His head dropped to the back of the couch and he sighed, trying to fight memories away but ultimately failing.

**

After showing the social worker out, Anna sighed and rested her forehead on the door; tonight had gone better than she’d expected and she couldn’t help feeling relieved. She’d been a nervous wreck all night, but seeing Steve playing with her brother had kept her calm. His mere presence had kept the hysteria at bay and she had almost forgotten the social worker as the night dragged on. Seeing him sprawled on the floor across from her brother had seemed the most natural thing, so domestic and sweet. 

Her lips lifted in a private smile as she thought of his gentle teasing and Roberto’s laughter. Her brother hadn’t laughed or smiled this much in years. She sighed again and rotated her head to the left; in the corner was the coat rack along with Steve’s leather coat. She should get that back to him.

Straightening she grabbed the coat and walked back to the living room; she paused in the doorway of the room and gazed thoughtfully at the big, blonde man sprawled on her couch.

His hair was falling across his forehead, giving him a boyish look and his eyes were closed; her eyes were drawn to the long eyelashes which spread on his cheekbones. She smiled at the thought of him having prettier lashes than her. She leaned in the doorway and let her gaze drift down his well built body. He was just so big, all lean muscle and fine bone structure. She remembered seeing him in the kitchen and she rolled her eyes at the thought of him having a smaller waistline than most women. This man was far too perfect; it was like an angel of God had fallen into her tiny home. 

As she studied him, his lips twitched and he murmured, “Enjoying the view?”

Anna jumped and laughed guiltily, “Sorry,” she muttered as she came into the room. “I thought you were asleep; I was debating with myself about waking you and kicking you out.” She plopped on the couch next to him, folding her legs under her butt as she clutched the jacket to her chest. 

Steve rolled his head so he could look at her and he smiled, “I don’t sleep much anymore; I was just thinking about tonight and how much fun it was.”

She snorted and rested her head against the couch; their faces were only a few inches apart and she had to resist reaching out a finger to stroke his lashes. “I honestly don’t remember what happened tonight; I was a nervous wreck, worrying about that mousy woman and what she thought of my mothering skills.” She sighed and closed her eyes, shivering at the remembered panic. 

Steve gazed at her for moment, taking in her aquiline features and reached out a finger to push a strand of hair which had fallen across her face behind her ear. Her eyes fluttered open in surprise and he dropped his hand, “Sorry,” he murmured, turning away from her. After a few seconds of tense silence he said, “I thought you were very brave; I never picked up on your panic and I don’t think Roberto even realized what was going on.”

She laughed wryly, trying to forget what it had felt like when he touched her and said, “He probably thought it was just a standard checkup.” When he glanced at her in confusion, she shrugged, “When my parent’s died and I was granted guardianship of ‘Berto, a social worker was appointed to our case and would show up at our home once every two weeks. That went on for the first year and we got pretty used to it after a while.”

Steve frowned and asked, “But now?”

She shrugged, “It’s been a year since they last appointed a visit; I thought everything was fine, but apparently some of Roberto’s teachers were concerned, thinking I was physically abusing him.” Her teeth clenched in fury and Steve shivered at the angry glint in her eyes. “It’s so ridiculous! I’ve reported time-and-again the bullying but because I’m not rich or powerful and essentially a single mother, my complaints don’t matter.” 

Her body trembled with suppressed rage and Steve reached out to hold her hand, “Would you want me to talk to them?” he asked quietly, his blue eyes earnest. 

Anna froze, her eyes widening in surprise and she said, “You? Why would you do that? He’s not your child.” 

He shrugged and said, “I used to be in the military; I’m used to dealing with querulous power-hungry men.” 

She laughed in disbelief and shook her head, “No, no that’s fine. This is my battle to fight and if it comes to it, I’ll just remove Roberto from the school. It’ll be against Poppy’s wishes but I have to do what’s best for ‘Berto.” She slid her hand gently out of his and stood, moving towards the kitchen, leaving the jacket draped over the back of the couch. 

Steve, feeling oddly bereft without her hand in his, stood and followed her. “Why would it be against your father’s wishes?” he asked curiously as she filled a tea-kettle with water.

She sighed and turned to him, “It’s the school my father always wanted his son to go to; it’s Catholic, private and extremely well-to-do. My father wanted Roberto to become a priest and eventually a cardinal and that school,” she paused, her jaw clenching angrily, “that school would give him the opportunity to do so.” 

She turned the stove on and rummaged in the pantry for some tea while Steve glanced around the apartment. “If you don’t mind my asking how do you…um…” he trailed off uncomfortably.

Anna chuckled and finished for him, “How do I afford it?” She sat at the kitchen table and fiddled with the placemat, avoiding his gaze. “There’s a reason I didn’t finish at Julliard,” she said quietly.

He stared at her, shocked. “You sacrificed your education for Roberto’s?” he said in amazement as he joined her at the table.

She bristled at his words and said, “What other choice did I have? The court would never allow me to keep him if they realized the intensity of my program. And besides, there was only so much money left to us after their deaths. Poppy wanted Roberto to continue at that school and if I was going to be able to afford it without killing myself at work, well, I decided my education was secondary to his.” 

She stood quickly, turning her head away from him, but he saw the tears in her eyes and he understood that while she loved her brother and she knew she had made the right choices for him, she still regretted her sacrifice on some level of her conscience. 

“Anna,” he said, reaching out to catch her hand as she moved past him to get silverware for their tea. She stopped as he gripped her gently, but she still avoided his gaze. “Anna, we all make sacrifices for those we love,” he said sadly.

She raised her eyes to his at the sadness in his voice and they gazed at each other for a long while. The whistle of the kettle made her jump, ending their moment and she rushed to the stove to pour water into the mugs she had set out. 

As she steeped the tea bags, her back to him, she thought about what he had said; his eyes had been so haunted when he spoke of sacrifices and she found herself wondering what sacrifices this sad, lonely man had made. She frowned and glanced at him from the corner of her eye; he looked like he was barely 30, what sacrifices could he have made? Was that why he had moved to Brooklyn? He had said he had been in the military, perhaps he had made some for the men in his unit?

She cleared her throat as she set the mugs down on the table and asked, “What sacrifices have you made, Steve? If you don’t mind my asking.” 

He stilled, in the process of doctoring his tea with sugar and milk, and turned haunted blue eyes to hers. “Sacrifices? I’ve sacrificed a lot in my life, Miss Conti,” he said. Before she could respond, he stood and said, “I should go. It’s getting late and you have to work tomorrow. Thank you for dinner; tonight was a lot of fun.” He left the kitchen then and started putting on his jacket by the front door. 

Anna rushed after him, shocked at the abruptness of his attitude, “Steve wait! I’m sorry if I upset you, that was really rude of me.” She rested her arm on his bicep and silently begged for him to turn around to look at her. “Steve?” she said quietly, “Please forgive me.” 

He stiffened, his hand on the doorknob, acutely aware of her grip on his arm and he murmured, “There’s nothing to forgive, Miss Conti. I’m just really tired and I know you have to get up in the morning.” He took a shuddering breath and tried to push the memories of icy goodbyes away. 

Anna dropped her hand and folded her arms, “Well all right,” she said, exasperation coloring her tone. “If you want to be melodramatic. Do you want your jacket back?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head, “I told you, keep it.” 

And then he was gone. Anna stood in the foyer for ages staring at the door and she couldn’t help feeling like she had fucked up royally. And even though she’d only known this man for less than a day, she couldn’t help the hopelessness that threatened to overwhelm her; she hadn’t felt like this since the day she’d buried her parents. 

She shuddered and fought the tears that threatened to fall; returning to the kitchen she cleaned up their untouched tea and turned off the lights. She paused in the doorway of the living room, her eyes resting on the leather jacket lying abandoned on the couch. Without a second thought she picked it up and slid her arms into the sleeves; she pulled it tightly around her and brought the liner to her nose, inhaling his faint scent. 

She sighed and glanced around the apartment. She wasn’t tired and even though she had another long work day before her tomorrow, she didn’t want to go to bed. Smiling to herself, she hugged the jacket around her body, rummaged in her purse for a moment and then slipped out of the apartment closing the door quietly behind her.


	6. The Manager

Despite the lateness of the hour she didn’t have the roof of her building to herself. 

“You really shouldn’t be smoking, you know.” 

Anna turned at her best friend’s voice and laughed, “Neither should you, you hypocrite.”

Anita chuckled as she leaned her elbows on the low wall beside her friend. “Yeah, well when it takes the twins about 2 hours to fall asleep, I find the desire for nicotine grows exponentially.” 

Anna snorted and tapped some ash into the plate beside her elbow, “I don’t think I can blame you then.”

Her friend smiled and drew deeply on her Camel and said, “Ah, well. They’re teething. I shouldn’t be surprised.” Turning to Anna she frowned, “Haven’t heard from you for a few days Dria. What’s going on?”

Anna shrugged and said, “There’s nothing going on, just been really busy. You know how it is.”

Anita nodded, “Yeah I do, but I don’t think it’s just work that’s keeping you busy Dria. I think there’s something else going on.” 

Anna gazed out over the city and took one last draw on her cigarette. Anita snorted and jabbed her in the ribs, “Well? Was that a man coming out of your apartment a while ago? I saw him tear out of there and damn girl but he is gorgeous!” She laughed at the disgruntled look Anna shot her and shrugged, “Well he was. Very old fashioned; he looked like something from a Humphrey Bogart film. All tall and brooding…”

Anna groaned and shoved her friend gently, “It’s not what you think. He’s a friend of Roberto’s and he was over for dinner.”

“Dinner, eh? Did you make mamma’s spaghetti for him?”

Anita’s eyes glittered mischievously as she leaned closer to Anna, who squirmed uncomfortably and played with her lighter. “I did, but only because Roberto was home and I haven’t made that recipe for a while!” she said defensively as her friend cackled with laughter.

“Sure chica, that’s why. For your baby brother, who can make that recipe just as well as you.” Anita was grinning like a crazy person, and she was bouncing on her toes at the thought of her best friend finally getting laid. And by a tall, brooding stranger too! It was just like a goddamned romance novel!

“Stop it Anita, you’re getting the crazy eyes,” Anna said darkly, as she straightened and began heading for the door to the building.   
Anita rushed after her and caught her elbow, “Okay, say I’m crazy. But seriously, Adrianna! I saw your face when I mentioned him! I saw the way you were brooding just now! You’ve never looked like that before! So this guy has to be special. Even if he is just a ‘friend’ of ‘Berto’s!” She stared at her friend and hoped to God that she was right. “Come on Dria…who is he?”

Anna sighed and sat heavily on the edge of the wall. “I really don’t know Anita. He’s…different. Roberto loves him and tonight? Well, tonight he kind of saved my ass.” 

At Anita’s expectant look she sighed and told her friend everything; about the letter she’d received, her run-in with Steve, Roberto’s boxing lessons and then finally all of the stuff that had happened this past evening.

By the time she was done, Anita’s mouth was agape and she was on her 3rd cigarette. 

“Well,” she said slowly when Anna had finished. “Well, he certainly sounds like a special guy.” She drew heavily on the cigarette making the tip glow and Anna laughed as she gazed out at the sparkling city.

“Yeah,” she said quietly a small smile on her lips. “Yeah, I think he is.”

**

Steve left the Conti apartment that night in a terrible depression; he wasn’t exactly sure what had brought it on. Perhaps it was seeing Anna’s struggle to hold her family together or maybe it was just his remembering futile promises he had made so long ago. 

Either way, he had needed to get out of her home. His feelings for her scared him; in many ways he had only started admitting his feelings for Peggy Carter just a month ago. And now it was 70 years later and he was falling for a singer at a burlesque. 

He shivered as he parked his motorcycle behind Big Joe’s; rummaging in his pockets he pulled out the ring with the key to the gym on it. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but Joe Dugan had given him the key just days after he had signed up for the gym. Not that Steve minded. It gave him a chance to blow off steam by really letting go. He always left a handful of cash on Joe’s desk after one of these late-night bouts. 

Joe never questioned it; he just replaced the broken punching bags and went on smoking his cigars. 

Steve unlocked the back door and slipped into the dim gym. At this time of night, of course, there was on one around and as he flipped on the lights, he sighed. He hadn’t had a chance to really let go for over a week now and his muscles tensed at the thought. Working with Roberto may give him a sense of purpose but it also meant less time for him to let his frustrations go. 

Stripping out of his coat and tie he gazed around the gym at the faded posters on the wall and the ancient boxing ring; the place hadn’t changed in 70 plus years and he found himself reflecting on the bouts he and Bucky had witnessed here as kids. Old Man Max Dugan had let them sneak in, mostly because they never caused trouble and also, Steve suspected, because he had pitied the orphan boys. 

They had been pretty pathetic, Steve thought as he began unbuttoning his shirt. Bucky at least had learned how to box and to box well; Steve had just been an asthmatic weakling barely capable of walking the 2 blocks from the home to the gym without breaking a sweat. 

His lips twisted in a bitter sneer as he began to wrap his hands; he’d spent all of his childhood looking up to Bucky and then when things finally worked out for him, he’d failed his best friend. 

Thud!

The punching bag trembled with the force of his punch and he reveled in the burn of his knuckles on canvas. 

Sacrifices. 

Thud-thud!

Steve didn’t see the faded glory of Big Joe’s Boxing Gym as he began to work the bag; instead he was remembering saying one final goodbye and the sound of dying engine’s as he plunged a bomb ridden plane into frigid arctic waters. 

Thud-thud-thud-THUD!

With a screech of old metal, the chain on the bag snapped and the bag flew across the gym to slam into the wall.

Steve, still stuck in his memories, straightened out of his boxer’s stance slowly and gazed without remorse at the split bag. 

He didn’t hear the back door of the gym open and close. His mind was too consumed with long ago sacrifices he had made and the people he had failed. 

“You keep interesting company, Captain,” a deep voice said from behind him. 

Steve pivoted, raising his fists instinctively; he lowered them, though, when he saw who was standing in the shadows by the ring. 

“Director,” he said coldly as he attached another bag to the hook above him. Rolling his shoulders, he once more picked up his routine, remembering this time to pull his punches, lest he split another bag.

“We haven’t seen you at headquarters lately, Captain. Some of our employees are beginning to wonder if you’re going to resume your old duties.” 

“Old duties?” Steve said quietly, knowing what the Director meant but wondering if the man would say it out loud.

“We need you Captain Rogers. There are things in this world that need some old American justice. Our team won’t be complete until you join their ranks.” Steve felt the man’s gaze on him intensify as he tried to persuade him back to a life of sacrifices. 

He sighed and rested his hands on the shaking bag as he thought of what the Director had and hadn’t said. 

“You know, Director Fury,” he said slowly as his hands drifted up the rough canvas. “I find myself growing tired of ‘American justice.’ I know you have a team you’re putting together and maybe if I were younger or if I hadn’t spent almost a century buried in some ice, I would agree to work with that team. But that sort of thing seems pretty petty to me right now. I just want to live my life, Director. I hope you’ll let me.” He raised his ice-blue gaze to the Director’s one-eyed visage and tapped his fist gently against the canvas.

Fury stared at him for a moment and then shrugged, “Suit yourself Captain. We’re patient.” He turned to leave, missing Steve’s grimace and then he turned back and said, coldly, “I hope that if the need arrives you’ll join sides with us and not be distracted by all the marvels this modern world has to offer, no matter how pretty they are or how helpless they seem.” 

Steve shivered at the man’s words as he turned to leave; he hadn’t missed that threat. SHIELD knew about Anna and Roberto then. 

Not that he should be surprised. If there was one thing he knew from the old days, espionage agencies had their fingers in every pot imaginable. 

Sighing, he turned back to the punching bag; his fury had burnt itself out though, and now he was just curious. Why was SHIELD worried about him becoming “distracted?” And why were they approaching him now over a month after they’d revived him? 

Something wasn’t adding up…

He left the gym a while later and drove through the city for most of the night reflecting on all that had happened. 

Despite his worry about Fury’s sudden appearance and his orders, Steve found his mind drifting to the little family he had visited. He should apologize to Anna for his abrupt departure. He’d been horribly rude.

As he was driving home at around 6, his eye caught an opening florist and he smiled; he’d bring her some flowers. Yellow daisies, to match the yellow in her kitchen. 

His eyes sparkled and he laughed to himself as he signed the card. 

Bucky would be so proud of him.


	7. The Barn Burner

The morning after their dinner with Steve was quiet; Roberto got up and made breakfast for himself and his sister as usual but he wasn’t as chatty as he normally was. Anna glanced up from her book and frowned as he set a plate of scrambled eggs and sausage in front of her. “Okay, bud, what’s going on?” she said quietly as she watched Robbie pick at his eggs.

He glanced up and shrugged, mumbled something and then began picking his toast apart. She sighed and set her fork down. “All right, spill. What’s up?”

He shrugged again and then realizing that she wasn’t going to let it go, dropped his head in his hands and groaned, “I got in trouble yesterday; I have detention tonight after school.”

Anna gazed at him, absolutely surprised. Her baby brother never got in trouble! Ever. She’d always been the one with the flaming Italian passions, the one to get in fights after school, to argue with teachers and priests. Never Roberto. 

“What did you do?” she asked, her voice shocked. 

He sighed, still not looking at her. “I punched Gregory Mitchell in the nose and pushed him into the wall of the bathroom,” he muttered, trying to keep the pride from his voice.

Anna was quiet for a second and then laughed, “You punched a kid? You?!”

He glanced up at her and said defensively, “Well, yeah! That’s why I’m taking lessons with Steve!” 

She choked off her laughter and said, as solemnly as possible, “Did he cry?”

Roberto snickered and said, “Yeah he did. And he’s a freshman!”

They laughed together for a while and then Anna sobered, “Roberto, I know this seems like a good thing, but I have to tell you, you don’t want to get on the bad side of your teachers. Fighting is frowned upon , you know this, and I know you were defending yourself and considering this is the first time you’ve come out of a fight without bruises on your body means you’re taking your lessons with Steve to heart, but just be careful, okay baby? This school is really important and you’re too smart to blow your chances on a couple of bullies, okay? So do this detention graciously and know that on Sunday you’re going to have to go to confession.” She paused as her words settled in and her brother cringed. Before he could whine she raised a finger and said, “You’re also grounded. No TV, no models. Nothing. You’re going to come home and work on homework and then maybe do some chores for Anita or Mr. Halsworth. Okay? No complaints either.” 

He scowled furiously at her and then sighed, “Okay. But I can still practice with Steve tonight, right? I can’t back out now!”

She frowned, a fork full of eggs halfway to her mouth and considered, “Well, you don’t have his phone number do you?” she found herself hoping he might. He shook his head, though and she sighed. “Okay, you can practice with Steve tonight but that’s the only fun you’re going to have this weekend, you hear?” she pointed her fork ominously at him and he smiled.

“Okay Anna! Thank you!” He proceeded to wolf-down his breakfast and she sighed.

“How long is this detention, Roberto?” she hoped it wouldn’t be too late. 

“Um, I think it’ll be 30 minutes since it’s my first offense,” he said with a shrug as he pushed away from the table. “I’ll be able to catch a late bus, don’t worry.” 

She nodded, relieved and watched him rush around the apartment gathering his stuff. She knew she shouldn’t be proud of him for hitting another student, but she’d never seen her little brother come out on top of a fight and she couldn’t help the desire for finding Steve Rogers and thanking him for his help.

She smiled and shook her head as she gathered up the dishes; she’d just have to worry about that later. After his hurried departure last night she didn’t think she’d be seeing much of her brother’s friend.

Her hands stilled as she scrubbed the pans Roberto had used for the breakfast and she frowned; why did she feel so bereft at the thought of never seeing that man again? Why did it make her heart ache?

She shivered and forced the sudden onslaught of emotion away. She had more important things to worry about than the hurt feelings of her brother’s adult friend. She needed to focus on raising her brother right and on making money for rent and bills, not on how lonely she’d felt last night when she finally went to bed. 

Steve Rogers would just have to figure out his life on his own while she worried about hers.

** 

“Oh my god! Would you look at what just walked through our door?”

“Mmm well I’d tap that, ladies, yes I would!”

“Oh! He’s going into my section! Who do you think those flowers are for? He looks so lost!”

Anna looked up from where she was sitting by the back counter of the Greasy Pearl Diner reading her book on the Canaries, to see her three coworkers craning through the swinging door into the front of the restaurant. Rolling her eyes she stood and made her way over to where the three girls clustered and said, “What gorgeous man are you gawking at now?”

Three pairs of excited eyes swung her way and Margaret grabbed her arm, “Look Anna! Isn’t he just about the prettiest man you’ve ever seen?”

Anna stood on the tips of her toes and peered through the window of the door then her eyes widened and she gasped. Ducking down she hissed, “Oh my god! He’s here!” 

All of the girl’s stared at her, shocked, “Who’s here? Who is that? Do you know him?! Can you introduce us?” blurted the girls and Anna just shook her head, still shocked.

“What’s he doing here?” she wondered vaguely as she straightened to once more peer out the window. 

Yes, it was most definitely Steve Rogers and the poor man most definitely looked a little lost. 

“Shit,” she whispered, as the girl’s continued to cluck around her. “I have to go out there,” she said fiercely. She straightened her uniform absent mindedly and ignored the groans from Margaret and Stacey. “Just switch me sections Margaret. I don’t think he’s here for pie anyway.” Her heart was hammering and she couldn’t believe this man was in her diner. It was just too much to hope for. 

Looking around for something useful to take with her, she grabbed a coffee pot and slipped out the swinging doors. As she left, the girls clustered once more at the window; Anna rolled her eyes at the thought of this meeting having an audience and she prayed Steve wouldn’t look behind him to the kitchen. 

“Good morning,” she said cheerfully as she rolled to a stop beside his table. 

Steve jumped and glanced up at her, “Anna?!” he said, shocked to see her here. 

She smiled wryly and offered a two-fingered salute against the jaunty white hat nestled in her dark curls, “Welcome to the Greasy Pearl Diner! What can I get you?” she said cheekily. 

He blushed and stammered, his eyes sweeping down her pink dress with its white apron and then his eyes landed on her footwear.

“Roller skates?” he choked out, the first thing he’d managed to say clearly since she had appeared. 

She laughed and shrugged, “The owner’s an old fashioned lady. One of the requirements for working here is being able to skate; luckily for me I used to do it all the time as a kid.” 

Steve smiled at the thought of a little Anna roller skating around Brooklyn and said, “I didn’t realize you worked here.”

Anna glanced over her shoulder at the girls in the door and said, “Well, Pearl’s an old friend and she pays well. Can I get you something Steve?” 

He fiddled with his napkin for a moment, gathering his courage and then said, without meeting her gaze, “Actually, could I talk to you for a moment, in private?”

Anna glanced at her watch and then around the nearly empty diner, “Sure, that should be fine. We’re kind of in-between rushes now so Pearl should be okay with that. Let me just go make sure all right? Here, have some coffee.” She smiled at him and then poured a cup-full into his waiting mug before rolling into the back. 

The girls swarmed her immediately, asking all sorts of annoying questions; she ignored them and wove through the kitchen to the back office.

“Pearl?” she called softly as she pushed open the door. The owner of the diner, an elderly black woman with gray hair glanced at her from the books she was going over and waved her in. 

“Come on in, Adrianna. What’s got the hens all a flutter out there?” Pearl slid her glasses up her nose and leaned back in her chair as she gazed at her favorite employee.

“Well, there’s a handsome man in the front…” Anna started and Pearl chuckled.

“Figured as much. Those girls never seem to pay attention to anything unless it’s got some abs on it. What about this handsome man, baby?” Pearl cocked an eyebrow, wondering why her Anna was so flustered.

Anna rolled her feet awkwardly in her skates and muttered, “Well, he’s here to see me, Pearl. He wants to talk to me about something.”

“Mm-hmm. And do you want to talk to him, baby?” Pearl folded her arms under her breasts and waited patiently.

Anna hesitated and then nodded, “Yes I do. He’s…um…”

“Well he’s got to be something if he’s caught your eye, Anna. You’ve worked for me for 5 years and you’ve never paid much attention to the male species before. So what’s caught your fancy about this particular hunk?”

The younger woman smiled a crooked smile and said, “He’s a friend of Roberto’s.” 

Pearl chuckled, “Uh huh. And I’m thinking he may be a friend of yours as well.” She straightened and flipped a page in her book, “Well go on out there and talk to him. It’s time for your break anyway.” 

Anna smiled and pivoted on her skates, “Thank you Pearl!” she shouted as she made a bee-line for the front of the restaurant.

The owner of the Greasy Pearl snorted and shook her head, “Younguns,” she muttered as she went through the accounts. “He better not take my best girl out of here.”

** 

Steve couldn’t believe he’d stumbled upon Adrianna Conti at yet another of her work places. He’d only stopped at the diner to get something to eat before heading back to his apartment for some rest. But then she’d appeared at his table in that very familiar rosy pink uniform and those old-fashioned roller skates.

What were the chances?

When she rolled back to his table after disappearing into the kitchens (his cheeks had flamed when she’d pushed open the door revealing three young waitresses who all stared at him in amazement) he’d stood hurriedly and self-consciously pressed the wrinkles out of his khakis; that’d earned him a wry little grin from Anna, who then cocked her head towards the door.

“Want to take a walk, Steve?” she said softly, resting her hand on her hip and gazing at him with those sultry Italian eyes. 

He shivered. Unlike her brother, she was very Italian, which unsettled him immeasurably. But he couldn’t resist her smile.

“Sure,” he said. “Although, you might out-pace me in those skates.” 

She smiled and laughed warmly as she held up a pair of sneakers he recognized from the night he’d hit her. 

“No worries, I’ll put these on when we get outside.” She turned and expertly navigated her way through the diner, leaving Steve at his table gazing after her in amazement. 

She moved so smoothly, like a dancer, and in this dingy little diner she seemed to shine. Shaking his head, he gathered up the flowers and made his way after her. He found her sitting on the hood of a car unlacing her skates and humming a bit of a familiar tune. Her dark hair was tumbled around her face and Steve’s eyes were drawn to her well-turned legs. He was suddenly reminded of the pin-up’s the men had posted around the barracks during the War and it wasn’t too much of a stretch of his imagination to see her in one of the USO girl’s costumes. 

He shivered as he pictured her high-kicking and singing the old Captain America tune; she probably knew it too. All he’d have to do is ask her and she’d probably belt it out right here in the parking lot. 

“Steve?” her quiet voice snapped him back to the present and he grinned sheepishly.

“Sorry, I was stuck in the past.” He flushed as he realized he’d been staring at her legs while musing. She didn’t call him out on it though. She simply smiled and patted the hood of the car.

“Sit for a second, my feet are killing me right now.” He did, careful to keep his distance lest he make her uncomfortable as she turned to face him. “What did you want to talk to me about?” 

He fiddled with the flowers for a second and then held them out to her, “I meant to drop these off at your place this afternoon; I um…” he paused as her hand closed around his. “I um wanted to talk to you about last night,” he said softly. Their hands still rested around each other and his fingers tingled at her touch.

“Oh,” she said. “Well, I kind of wanted to talk to you about last night as well,” she smiled gently at him as he slid his fingers out from under hers. “Thank you for the flowers Steve,” she said when he was silent. Her dark eyes were questioning as she brought the bouquet to her nose and Steve felt his heart begin to pound as her eyelids fluttered closed as their scent washed over her. 

“You’re welcome,” he said. Without warning he slid off of the car hood they were seated on and wandered a few steps away. 

She watched him for a moment, a small frown wrinkling her brow. “Steve?” she said gently, “Want to tell me what’s on your mind?”

Steve rolled his shoulders and ran his hands through his hair, not sure how he was going to go about this. “Can we walk a bit, Anna? I don’t like sitting still.” 

She nodded and slid off of the hood, “That’s fine. Let’s go this way, there’s not as much traffic down Bethany Avenue.” She headed down the sidewalk and he followed. As he caught up to her she glanced at him and smiled, “I’m glad you showed up, I have something to ask you. But you should go first,” she said cheerfully as she arranged the flowers in her arms. 

Steve fiddled with his jacket and then offered his arm; she gazed at it in confusion for a second and then giggled as she slid her arm through his. “Such a gentleman,” she murmured as his cheeks flushed. 

They walked for a bit in silence and then finally Steve gathered his courage. “Anna,” he started, “I um wanted to apologize for last night. I was so rude and a complete oaf. I um…” he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, not meeting her avid gaze. “You should have slapped me for the things I said.” 

Anna watched the play of emotions on his face for a moment and then chuckled, “Hey don’t worry about it Steve! I thought I was the one who was really rude! I was obviously pushing you too hard last night. Your life really isn’t any of my business and I was just being nosey. Don’t worry about it, you didn’t hurt my feelings at all.” He still looked troubled after her little speech and she bumped him with her hip. “Hey, snap out of it, big guy! You got me flowers! So it’s me that owes you now!”

He turned to her and opened his mouth to demur and she raised the flowers with a shake of her head, “Don’t even try to be the gallant gentleman right now! You say you just got here to Brooklyn?” he hesitated and then nodded. She beamed and hugged his arm tightly to her. “Excellent. So you haven’t had the best pastries in the world! Let’s go!” She tugged him down the street to an ancient row of brick buildings with plate glass store front windows and Steve felt his heart start to hammer.

He recognized this neighborhood. When she stopped in front of a tiny bakery stuck between a bridal shop and a “vintage” clothing store, Steve couldn’t help from laughing. 

“I remember this place! They had amazing canollis when I was a kid,” he said excitedly. His mouth watered as he stared at the faded sign over the front of the store. He missed the confused glance Anna shot him as she opened the door.

A tiny bell jingled overhead as they slid into the tiny teahouse and the sweet smells of fresh bread and melting butter and sugar washed over them. 

A tiny woman with an elaborate scarf tied around her head appeared at the counter and greeted Anna familiarly. “Adrianna, môj milý! It has been too long!” 

Anna, forgetting her confusion over Steve’s recognition of the bakery, smiled and greeted the woman, before placing their order. “Can we have a canolli and a raspberry Danish, Albana? And some coffee just to top us off.” 

The woman nodded and rushed around behind the counter, reminding Steve of another brightly scarfed woman from long-ago. “I haven’t been to the Pekáreň in years. I’m surprised it still exists,” he murmured as they sat down in the back corner of the bakery. 

Anna frowned and said, “How do you know about this place? It’s not exactly a tourist trap.” She rested her chin on her hands and watched him blush once more and fiddle with the napkin holder. This man was just so perplexing; he always acted like she’d caught him out at a lie. Or that he’d let slip something important that she wasn’t supposed to know. Her frown deepened as her unease grew. Who was this man?

Steve, aware of her consideration and her growing unease, tried to think of something that wouldn’t worry her any more than necessary. “I grew up in Brooklyn,” he murmured. “My uh best friend and I would come here before school every morning. We grew up near here.” 

Her dark eyes gazed at him, sensing the half-lie, but before she could question him further Albana arrived with their pastries and coffee. “Here you go you two! I hope you enjoy them. I was not sure how your gentleman wanted his coffee, my pet, so I left it black but yours is just the way you like it, dobre?” She beamed at them, her bright blue eyes twinkling knowingly and Anna chuckled.

“I’m sure it’s fine, Albana. Mr. Rogers can doctor his coffee just fine on his own. Thank you,” she murmured as the woman flitted around them.

“Any time, my pet. Just call if you need anything else, yes? I will be in the kitchen!” And then she left them alone. 

Anna chuckled and turned back to Steve, “Sorry,” she muttered. “My family would come here pretty regularly when I was growing up and Albana and my mother got along famously. She’s almost like a grandmother to Robbie and me.”

Steve smiled and nodded, “I understand. She seems like a lovely woman,” he murmured, his eyes caught by her fingers as she pulled apart her Danish. 

She had the prettiest fingers, long and slender with perfectly shaped nails. They reminded him of Peggy’s and he wondered what they would look like outfitted in boxer’s tape; his heart hammered at the thought. He took a sip of his coffee and then picked up the pen sitting at the table next to a stack of comment cards. Absently he began to doodle on his napkin, oblivious to Anna’s sharpening gaze and the way she leaned forward so she could see what he was doing.

It was quiet for a few moments and then she murmured, “You’re an amazing artist, Steve.” 

He jumped and dropped the pen. Glancing up at her he flushed and muttered, “Sorry, I didn’t realize what I was doing.” He crumpled up the napkin and was about to throw it away when she reached out to stop him.

“Don’t do that! It’s too good to throw away!” She slid it from his grasp and smoothed the slip of paper out. “Steve this is beautiful!” She said in wonder. She turned it around so he could see his handiwork. 

It was her hands, cradling the mug of steaming coffee. 

He shrugged, “It’s just a doodle,” he said raising his eyes to hers. 

She laughed in disbelief and folded the napkin up. “If that’s a doodle, I’d love to see you draw something official.” She slid the drawing into her coat pocket and frowned at him. “Did you go to school for art?” She’d never have guessed that before now.

He nodded and gazed at his folded hands before saying, “Yeah, before I joined the army. I um…needed to do something useful.” 

She cupped her chin in her hand and smiled gently, “I bet your skills could be turned into something useful Steve. Art in any form is important for humankind.” 

He turned his blue eyes to her dark ones and felt his lips lifting in a smile, “I always thought so too,” he murmured.

They were silent for a moment, eating their respective pastries and sipping their coffee and then Anna gathered her courage and asked, “Steve, would you like to go to church with us on Sunday?”

He stared at her for a moment and then blurted, “Church?!”

She shrugged and laughed, “Roberto and I go every Sunday and I kind of figured since you’ve only just um… ‘arrived’ in the City then you’d like some company.” Her dark eyes smoldered at him and he shivered at her knowing gaze.

Suddenly, Fury’s words from the night before came back to him and he wondered if he should perhaps back off and return to SHIELD’s control before he got in too deep with this woman and her brother. 

He scowled at his half-eaten canolli and then made a decision. 

Glancing up at Anna he smiled and nodded, “I would love to join you and your brother for church on Sunday. Thank you.” 

Anna breathed a sigh of relief and laughed, “Excellent! We’ll pick you up at 9:30 on Sunday then!” 

After that they chatted about inconsequential things and then Anna sighed and said, “I have to get back to the diner. Pearl will kill me if I’m not back for the lunch rush.” She stood and pulled her wallet out of her purse.

Steve stood and placed his hand on hers, “Let me,” he murmured.

She snorted and shook his hand off, “Don’t think so, mister. This is my treat. You got me flowers, I got you breakfast. We’re square okay? Don’t be a chauvinist.” 

He frowned and muttered, “I don’t understand what you mean by that.”

She laughed and patted his cheek, “Don’t worry about it big guy. Just remember it’s okay for the girl to pay for a date occasionally, okay?” She then headed out of the bakery after shouting a goodbye to Albana. 

Steve stared after her for a second and then laughed. The women of this day and age were really something. 

And this one was perhaps the most interesting of them all.

He rushed out of the bakery and once more offered her his arm. She took it with a chuckle and together they ambled down the sidewalk back to the Greasy Pearl. As Steve said his goodbye’s to her he had to admit to himself that after meeting the Conti’s, life in this modern era suddenly didn’t seem so bleak.

As Anna watched him climb onto his motorcycle (how had he carried her flowers on that monster?!) she smiled and lifted the bouquet to her nose. Sunday better get here fast, she didn’t think she could wait 2 days before seeing him again. Her eyes twinkled as she thought of how Roberto would react when she told him of their new companion. 

He would be beside himself…


	8. The Chin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Some discussion of PTSD and some violent actions are taken against characters in this chapter.

Roberto rushed out of St. Francis around 4 on Friday; detention hadn’t been so horrible, he’d been pleasantly surprised to find out. In fact, having detention in the library had been more fun than he’d had at his school since he’d started attending. He supposed it wasn’t the same for everyone though-he just really loved the library and the quiet librarian Brother Mathias. He hadn’t had time all week to research Captain America and the Howling Commandos so the moment he’d been lectured by the Headmaster once more on the rules of fighting and confrontation and he’d made his solemn promise not to fight anymore, he’d been released to help Brother Mathias. 

Which of course translated to, “Find some interesting books and discuss with the good brother the reasons why you find the content so fascinating.”

His lips twitched as he spilled onto the sidewalk preparing to head to the bus stop and the 7 bus which would hopefully arrive soon. Brother Mathias had provided some interesting info on the Captain and the Commandos. He’d even remembered having a book lying around at home about Howard Stark and his wartime efforts. He wondered if he should just skip boxing with Steve Rogers. Would his friend really mind that much if his pupil didn’t show?

He didn’t get far in that thought process though; suddenly, out of the steady flow of traffic, a powerful motorcycle pulled up to the sidewalk. Roberto jumped when a familiar voice barked from the man driving it, “Roberto! Need a ride?” 

Turning, he saw Steve Rogers straddling the bike, wearing his familiar dark brown leather jacket and a pair of aviator sunglasses. His mouth dropped open as the bike idled and the only thing he could say at first was, “Shouldn’t you be wearing a helmet, Steve?” 

Steve’s lips twitched as the kid hesitated on the sidewalk and he reached behind him to pull a helmet out of the satchel strapped to the back of the seat. “I only have the one,” he said as he handed the black helmet over to Roberto, who took it nervously. “I figured you should wear it or your sister might hunt me down.” 

Roberto’s eyes were wide as he inspected the helmet and then blurted, “How’d you know I’d need a ride?”

Steve’s cheeks flushed slightly and he fiddled with his jacket before saying, “I had coffee with your sister today. She mentioned that you would have to stay late after school and you’d have to try to catch the late bus so I thought I’d swing by and give you a lift.” 

Roberto’s eyes narrowed at the mention of Steve and Adrianna having coffee together and he folded his arms. “Does Anna know you’re coming to pick me up?” he asked slowly. He didn’t want to think about what his sister would have to say if she could see him now, about to climb onto that monster of a bike to go speeding through the city. 

Steve chuckled and leaned towards the frowning kid, “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” he said. Then straightening he ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. “You coming, kid?” he said, his voice slightly challenging. 

Roberto glanced from him to the bike and then back again. Then, excitement thrumming through his veins at the thought of this rebellion, he nodded and slapped the helmet on his head. “All right, as long as you promise not to tell my sister!” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, kid,” Steve said with a smile as he made sure the straps were tight around Roberto’s chin. “All right, let’s go.” 

“Where are we going,” Roberto asked as the older man revved the bike’s engine and prepared to merge into traffic. 

Steve glanced at him and chuckled, “It’s a surprise,” he said. “Since it’s Friday I thought we’d do something fun and leave the gym alone for a while.” 

Before Roberto had a chance to respond they were off. He shrieked in excitement as the bike sped into traffic and he wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist before he slid off the seat. He really wasn’t big enough for this bike but it was exhilarating as they wove through traffic and sped around corners. 

“Anna’s going to kill me!” he gasped breathlessly as they wove between two taxis and sped through a yellow light. 

Steve only smiled and thought of his conversation with Anna this morning. They’d discussed a lot of things, most of them inconsequential, but the one thing she had mentioned that had caught his attention was her little brother’s love for history. He’d known this already, of course, after spending a week with Roberto in the gym and from last night and seeing his extensive collection of history memorabilia, but he’d decided to act on it. 

Anna had given him an idea, something he could do with Roberto that wouldn’t reveal too much of his past, but would give the kid an inkling of what he was dealing with. 

When they pulled up to the Museum of Modern Art Roberto gasped; Steve glanced over his shoulder and grinned at the amazement in the kid’s face. “Ready to see some art, Roberto?” 

He only nodded, still too amazed at the thought of going inside. He hadn’t been here since that Opera exhibit he and Poppy had gone to a few weeks before he and Mamma had died. Steve swung off the bike and turned to help Roberto off. “I thought you’d like to see the exhibit they’re featuring this year,” he said as Roberto pulled off his helmet. “Your sister mentioned your interest in the War…I mean, uh, World War II.” The kid glanced at him curiously as he stumbled over the modern nomenclature of his War and he hurried on, “So I thought this might be fun to see. I haven’t been to the Museum for years, used to go here during college to study different artists.” They were almost up the stairs heading towards the door when Roberto saw the banner for the exhibit. 

“The Unsung Heroes?” he asked curiously as Steve held the heavy door open for him. The older man nodded, his eyes distant.

“Yeah, it’s an exhibit about the propaganda artists and cartoonists of the period, the ones who really spurred on the War. I used to collect some of their work so this will be interesting,” Steve said as he led Roberto, who was frowning thoughtfully at his back, towards the center desk of the museum. 

“Did you get the artwork at antique shops?” he asked curiously as Steve paid for their tickets. 

“Uh,” Steve stammered as he handed over Roberto’s ticket. “Yeah, yeah I found them at antique shops.” He avoided Roberto’s gaze and absently thanked the over-eager receptionist for the maps she handed him. Roberto noticed she also slipped him her number which Steve didn’t even glance at. 

He grinned at the flustered receptionist and followed the big man towards the double doors leading to the exhibit. Steve glanced at him, and couldn’t help wondering if this had been a bad idea. He’d already messed up twice. One more time and Roberto would catch-on. 

He needn’t have worried though, because the moment they entered the cheerfully lit exhibit Roberto forgot all of his curiosity about his mysterious friend. His eyes were wide as he took in the brightly colored posters, paintings, costumes and cartoons arranged before them and gasped, “Holy crap! This is amazing!” 

Steve stared around the gallery and tried to keep from panicking; maybe this hadn’t been a good idea. All around him were pictures of his past, little pieces of his history that he had never thought he’d see again. Roberto was beside himself, spouting facts about the artists, the soldiers and civilians used as models for the artwork; he stretched out a hand and caught Steve’s. 

“Come on Steve,” he crowed, “Let’s find the beginning of the gallery-it says it’ll start with the artists who emerged during the Depression to provide artwork for the Defense Department!” 

Steve let the boy drag him along and he couldn’t help hoping as they made their way around the verges of the gallery that some of his artwork wouldn’t be there. He hadn’t thought of that aspect of this gallery before either. He hadn’t done much back in college, just some concept art to make a little cash on the side. 

But this would be the gallery that would show his work. He remembered that pub he’d gone to with the Commandos and Bucky and seeing his posters hanging in the men’s lavatory. He’d blushed and torn them off the walls. 

He needn’t have worried; some of his works were there of course, but they hadn’t named the artist only the publication company he’d sold them to for cheap. Besides, Roberto was so excited, he wouldn’t have noticed the artist’s name anyway. 

As the evening wore on, Steve felt himself relax; he unconsciously settled into the quiet older brother role he had assumed once upon a time with the kids from the orphanage. A small smile ghosted his lips the entire time as he watched Roberto pour over paintings and photographs and his mind began to wander. 

The Conti’s were a fascinating duo; Roberto was kind, intelligent and extremely passionate about his sister. And Adrianna? His smile grew as he thought of her chastising him this morning for almost throwing that silly sketch he’d drawn away. Anna was fascinating; she had more spirit and more spunk than any dame he’d met since emerging from the ice. 

His smile faded slightly as he stopped in front of a painting of three servicemen smoking in the trenches of Italy and his eyes glazed as he imagined Peggy and Anna meeting. Somehow it wasn’t that much of a stretch…

His fingers clenched as he remembered running his fingers through Peggy’s hair right before he jumped on Schmidt’s plane. He’d been so sure he was going to make it back to her, to survive the fight. He’d been so cocky…

His lips twisted and he closed his eyes, ignoring the tears which pricked there. He needed to forget her, to move past the past. But he wasn’t sure if he could. What if Peggy had been the right partner for him? What if he’d missed his chance at love? 

Suddenly a voice spoke from behind him. “Young man? Sir?”

He turned, surprised at being caught out by a museum security guard. “I’m sorry,” he said a sheepish smile on his lips. “I was caught up in memories. Is the museum closing?”

The security guard, an older gentleman who looked to be nearly 80, nodded, his light grey eyes kind. “Your boy is pouring over the Captain America display in the corner, sir. He looks to be almost bursting his pants, he’s so excited.” 

Steve sighed and rubbed his forehead; he should have known there’d be a Captain America display. What if there were pictures of him and Howard? Or worse, pictures of Bucky? He didn’t think he could handle looking at the images of his long-ago past. Squaring his shoulders he thanked the guard and promised they’d be out of the gallery soon. The gentleman only waved his hand and said, “Don’t worry about it sonny. You’ve got ten minutes. Let your son get his fill of the golden hero.” 

Steve’s shoulder tensed after that last remark and he frowned as the guard left his side to continue locking up the museum. “Golden hero,” he grumbled to himself as he stuffed his hands in his coat pocket and prepared to find Roberto. “Right.” 

 

He would have to tell Roberto the truth about himself at some point; the kid was too smart not to figure it out eventually. But he would make him swear not to tell Anna. He wanted to tell her on his own terms. He’d barely known her for three days. It was one thing telling a thirteen year old boy the story of his past. But a dame? Especially a dame as headstrong and intelligent as Anna?

No, he’d tell her when he was ready. 

He finally found Roberto; the kid was staring at a life-size poster of his hero and Steve cringed at the campy uniform he’d loathed. It looked even worse here in this gallery surrounded by posters and artwork of men he’d idolized during his sojourn in art school. 

“Pretty hideous isn’t it,” he said before he could stop himself.

Roberto jumped and turned to him with a frown. “What? The Cap? No way!” he turned back to the poster and shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “I always loved what he stood for as a kid. Poppy would read the comics to me every night when I was growing up and I realized when I was about 7 that I wanted to be just like Captain America.” He fell silent and Steve shifted uncomfortably. 

“He was just a man with a mask and a shield,” he muttered darkly. “The only thing he stood for was making money for the war effort.” 

Roberto stared at him in surprise at the loathing in the man’s voice and frowned. “How do you know that?” 

Steve hesitated, wondering if he should tell him the truth now; a part of him wanted to, to confide in someone who wasn’t SHIELD. The other part, the part who still hated himself for waking up when everyone else had died, wanted him to just take the kid home and leave the Conti’s alone. 

His eyes met Roberto’s though and he sighed. He couldn’t lie to this kid. And he couldn’t abandon him. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt tied to him, tied to his sister. 

“How about we go get some dinner and I’ll tell you a story, okay? The story of the real Captain America,” he said as he turned to leave the gallery. 

Roberto glanced from him to the poster, a small frown wrinkling his brow, and then he rushed after his friend. “The real Captain?! Really Steve? How do you know about him?”

Steve didn’t answer, just nodded to the elderly guard and held the door open for his young companion. “Patience kid,” he murmured as they walked down the steps towards the parking lot. Roberto’s mouth popped open and then he sighed as he realized Steve wouldn’t tell him until he was ready. 

After grabbing some hamburgers at a diner down the road from the museum and eating in relative quiet, they returned to the Conti apartment. It was nearly 9 and Roberto was dragging, which made Steve smile absently. As they stepped into the apartment he told Roberto to go get ready for bed, that he’d wait for him in the living room. 

The kid perked up at that and rushed off to his room, shedding his coat, backpack, shoes and uniform jacket along the way. Steve rolled his eyes and followed him, gathering the kid’s belongings silently and then hanging them in the closet. He stilled when he saw his leather jacket hanging there amongst the Conti’s items and his heart staggered in his chest. His fingers rose to stroke the sleeve of his coat and what he suspected was one of Anna’s; he shivered before slamming the door closed. 

Don’t be a fool, Rogers, he snapped to himself as he entered the living room. You’re not anything to her, just the man teaching her brother how to box. 

Roberto had beat him there; he was sitting on the couch in his pajamas, a blanket wrapped around himself and excitement making him bounce up and down on the cushions. Steve chuckled as he sat next to the bouncing kid and he clapped a hand on his head, stilling him. “Easy, kid, you’ll break the couch,” he said with a small smile. Roberto laughed and subsided. 

“Okay Steve, can you tell me the story now?!” he asked, his eyes sparkling. 

Steve watched him thoughtfully for a moment before easing out of his coat and asking, “Did you brush your teeth?” Roberto nodded. “Did you floss?” Another nod, more impatient this time. “Blow your nose?” A snort and a roll of the eyes. “Say your prayers?” Roberto shoved him and groaned. 

“Come on Steve! You’re just stalling! Tell me the story about Captain America!” 

Steve sighed and draped his arm over the back of the couch as he leaned back in the cushions. “Okay, I won’t tell you the entire thing,” he said, while thinking, Or even part of it. Sorry kid. “But I’ll tell you a bit about the man who became Captain America.” 

Roberto nodded, his eyes wide with interest. Steve closed his eyes and gathered his thoughts, as well as his courage. Here goes, Rogers, he thought wryly to himself. Then he began his story. “Sometimes heroes aren’t the guys who wear the masks or throw the shields; sometimes heroes are the men who sacrifice everything for those they love. Sometimes heroes are the men who keep watch in the night. Captain America was just a guy, a normal kid from Brooklyn who was made into something more by the heroes of his time…”

The night dragged on and as Steve told the kid about a bit of his history, being ever careful to keep specifics out of the story, he watched as Roberto fell asleep, his head resting on a pillow beside Steve’s hip. 

Steve watched him for a few moments, his eyes gentle in the soft lighting of the living room and smiled as the kid snored softly. He brushed his fingers through his hair and then leaned his head back on the couch. He was exhausted; he hadn’t meant to tell the kid so much, he’d only wanted to tell him a bit about the War but he’d found once he started he couldn’t stop. It felt almost like a confession. It was a relief to get some of his story out there, even if it wasn’t the entire truth. 

He wasn’t sure if he was ready to tell the entire thing right then anyway. 

He sighed as his eyes drifted closed; for once he didn’t fight the slow wave of exhaustion. He’d close his eyes for a little while, just rest them. He wouldn’t sleep. He didn’t want to dream tonight.

He’d just close his eyes…

**

Anna rolled her shoulders as she made her way slowly up the stairs to the apartment; as she neared the door she pulled out her keys and unlocked the door. She hesitated in the doorway, her nose wrinkling as she caught a whiff of old after-shave and she glanced around quickly. 

“Roberto?” she called, keeping her voice soft. She moved slowly through her home towards the living room where she saw a light glowing. She stopped in the door way, her mouth agape at the sight of Steve Rogers slumped on her couch with Roberto curled up at his side. 

She moved into the room and stopped in front of the sleeping boys. Steve was sleeping deeply and she couldn’t help thinking he looked like he needed it. She’d noticed the deep shadows under his eyes before. She bent over him and said softly, “Steve?” He didn’t respond, and she hesitated, her eyes captured by the soft wave his eyelashes made on his cheeks. He had longer lashes than most women. Thicker too. 

Suddenly, without her consciously thinking to do so, she stroked her fingers gently over his cheek. 

Before she could react, his eyes snapped open, a feral snarl ripped through his lips and her throat was caught in his tight grip. As he squeezed, she noticed the haunted look in his eyes and she realized he wasn’t all there. 

“Steve,” she choked, her fingers locking around his wrist. “Steve, please, let me go!”

He jumped at the sound of her voice and as Roberto woke he released her. “Oh god,” he groaned as she collapsed, coughing at his feet. “Oh god.” 

And then he ran.

“Steve?” Roberto called as the door thudded closed behind his friend. “Steve?” 

Anna shuddered at the plaintive note in his voice and tried to say everything was going to be all right but her vocal cords seemed to be frozen in shock. 

What had that been? 

Why had he reacted like that?

And why had he looked like he was going to kill her?

She pushed herself upright before turning to Roberto. “Stay here,” she gasped, her voice weak. Then she followed Steve from the apartment. 

His shoes made an unholy clatter on the steps leading out of her building and she winced. Mrs. Harris down the hall would be irritated with all of the noise. Biting her lip, she rushed after him, her steps much quieter than his.

“Steve!” she shouted as she reached the lobby. He was several steps ahead of her, his jacket streaming behind him. “Steve, please wait up.” 

He glanced at her over his shoulder as he pushed past the door and the cold March air hit her like a hammer. “Go back upstairs, Anna,” he snarled as she stepped out on the front stoop. “You’re not dressed warmly enough.”

She suddenly shivered, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. She’d left her coat upstairs. She firmed her jaw as he headed for the bike parked outside of her building and shook her head. “No,” she snapped, her voice still gravelly. “I’m not going upstairs. Steve, please-“ she stretched her hand out to stop him as he reached the bike but he pulled away from her.

“Just go Anna, go back to Roberto,” he said, his voice agonized and she frowned. 

“What was that up there, Steve?” she asked quietly, fear making her heart hammer. Her eyes darted to his hands which gripped the handlebar of his bike tightly. “What were you dreaming of?”

His massive shoulders hunched under her quiet words and a small part of him wondered how she could still stand here next to him so calmly. He’d hurt her, scared her and yet she was still here. Why?

“It was nothing,” he muttered as he mounted his motorcycle. “Just a dream.”

She saw him ready to start the bike and she did the only thing she could think of to try and stop him. She jumped in front of him and planted her hands on the light bar. 

“Must have been one hell of a dream,” she said, disbelief in her voice. “What were you dreaming of? An ex?” Her dark eyebrows arched over her smoldering eyes and he shivered as memories washed over him. She watched him, watched as his cheeks paled and his body started to shake. “Hey,” she said softly, moving around the bike to rest her hand on one quivering bicep. “Take it easy Steve. You’re all right.” Her hand smoothed up his tense arm and shoulder to cup his cheek. She was surprised to find it wet. 

He was crying. 

“I hurt you,” he whispered as his eyes closed tightly. “I hurt you. I’m not good for you or Roberto. I’m damaged Anna, broken. You should get away from me.”

She was quiet for a moment as she stroked his cheek gently and then she shook her head. “Nope, no-can-do. And you’re not broken. It’s my fault-I scared you shitless! Most people hate being woken up suddenly! Roberto once punched me in the nose when I woke him up for school!” Her lips quirked and she poked him in the side. “Now I wake him up with a five foot pole every morning.” 

Steve opened his eyes and glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. In the early predawn light her eyes shown and his hand rose, unbidden, to tuck an errant curl behind her ear. “I’m sorry,” he whispered brokenly. “I was dreaming…” His hand fell as he remembered the Red Skull’s cruel laughter and his shoulders hunched. “I should leave.” 

Anna, her cheek burning from his gentle stroke, shook her head and snatched the keys out of his limp hand. “Nuh-uh,” she said as she clapped her hands around his arm. “You’re dead on your feet. There’s no way I can let you drive that monster in this condition. Come on, I’ll make you some breakfast and then I’m putting you to bed.”

He started to panic as she pulled him off the bike. “I don’t need sleep Anna, that’s my whole problem to begin with,” he said as she led him back towards the apartment. 

She glanced at him over her shoulder, a small frown furrowing her brow and she stopped. “When was the last time you slept Steve? Really slept?” Her hand rose once more to stroke his cheek and his eyes closed as she pressed her fingers gently to the shadow darkening the hollow beneath his eye. “You look like death warmed over,” she murmured, worried. 

He opened his mouth to protest but she stopped him with a finger on his lips and pulled him once more towards the apartment. Steve let her drag him, for what reason, he wasn’t sure but he found he wanted whatever help she could provide him. Whatever solace…

When they got to the kitchen, she fed him oatmeal with brown sugar and cinnamon, made sure he downed a cup of chamomile tea and before he could protest anymore, she led him to her bedroom. His eyes widened as they passed Roberto’s (she’d sent him to his room the moment they’d arrived; he’d been swaying on his feet, half asleep) and he planted his feet. Anna gasped as she was jerked backwards as her momentum was halted and she smacked into his solid chest. 

“Sorry,” he muttered his warm hands catching her before she fell. “I can’t take your bed Anna.” 

She snorted as his hands tightened around her upper arms and she rested her own gently on his chest. “Well you wouldn’t fit in Roberto’s bunk bed, Steve, so you’ll just have to sleep in my bed.” Her cheeks warmed as she realized how close they stood and she jumped free of his arms. “Don’t worry,” she said at his troubled glance in her direction. “I’ll take the couch, I want to watch some morning toons anyway.” She opened her door and gestured him in. He hesitated still and she rolled her eyes before moving into the dark bedroom. “It’s not a trap,” she called softly as she snapped on the lamp and tossed the clothes thrown on her bed into the hamper in her closet. She chuckled as he peered around the edge of the door and gazed around the room, 

It was very her, he realized. Not messy per se, but lived-in. Sheet music covered every flat surface, including the keyboard set under the window and every wall was covered in posters or artwork. She was in the bathroom, the door cracked only barely and he saw her shadow move about the tiny space as she prepared for bed. 

His cheeks suddenly warmed at the thought and he started to back away; the bathroom door swung open at that moment though and she paused in the doorway. “You’re impossible,” she said with a roll of her eyes. She was wearing sweatpants and another Julliard t-shirt, her dark hair gathered in a messy top knot and her face scrubbed clean of make-up. She was even prettier this way he realized as she approached him. More natural. 

She caught his hand and tugged him all the way into the room, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Anna, I-“ he started to say as she sat him on the bed but she shook her head. 

“Come on. I can see how tired you are; you wouldn’t stop yawning at the table. Now let’s go, take your shoes off! Or do I have to undress you myself?” her eyes sparkled mischievously and he blushed. Hurriedly he kicked off his shoes and shrugged out of his jacket; he wouldn’t put it past her, if she started undressing him right there. He hesitated for a moment and then began unbuttoning the plaid button-up shirt he wore. He didn’t notice her blush as he popped the buttons one-by-one nor did he notice her little gasp as he shrugged out of the shirt to reveal the white-undershirt he wore. 

Her eyes were wide as she took in the broad expanse of his chest; the white tee left nothing to the imagination in the way it clung to his muscles and she shivered as she imagined what it would be like to run her hands up his stomach to rest at his shoulders. It would be like stroking a statue, she thought, all carved muscle and solid flesh under her hands. 

She jumped when he lay back upon the pillows and she blushed. Had he noticed her staring?

She folded her arms as he lay back on the bed, his legs sticking stiffly out as he folded his arms over his chest. She rolled her eyes and snorted before pulling the comforter over his stiff figure. “All right, just get some sleep, okay? Promise me you’ll try?” she asked as she started to leave. He stopped her though. 

“Anna,” he asked, his timid voice making her stop and glance at him. “Can you stay with me? I um…I don’t want to be alone.” 

She watched as he fiddled with the tee, unconsciously pulling it up just a tad so she could see the sharp indents of his hips and she shivered. “All right Steve,” she murmured as she moved back towards the bed. She sat next to him since she didn’t have a chair in her room and rested her head against the wall. They were quiet for a long while, their breath quiet and relaxed, and unconsciously she began trailing her fingers through his hair, much like she would do to Roberto. 

Steve’s eyes finally began to drift closed but as sleep threatened to take him the Red Skull chuckled once more in the back of his head and he jerked violently awake, making the bed shake and Anna gasp as she too jerked awake. He panted, his hands tightening in the blankets he lay under, and he groaned hopelessly, “This won’t work, I can’t dream of him again. I can’t.” Tears slid down his cheeks. 

Suddenly she was there, her arms wrapping tightly around him. “Shh,” she whispered as she stroked his hair. “It’s okay, you’re safe here. I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

Neither questioned their close proximity with the other; this was simply comfort for both of them and as Steve shuddered in her arms, he finally felt relief. “Can you sing to me?” he asked, his voice weak as sleep once more began to take him. 

She nodded and pressed her cheek tightly to the top of his head. “No problem, hon,” she murmured.

She thought for a moment, her mind spinning as she struggled to think of a song to sing to him and then her lips lifted in a small smile. 

“You’ll like this one,” she whispered. 

And then she sang. 

Turn down the lights  
Turn down the bed  
Turn down these voices  
Inside my head  
Lay down with me  
Tell me no lies  
Just hold me close  
Don't patronize  
Don't patronize

By the time she finished her soft song, he was asleep, a peaceful smile on his lips. She sighed in relief and pulled a fuzzy blanket over both of them before settling her head on the pillow beside his. She was too tired to make it to the couch.

As her eyes closed, she wondered briefly what he’d dreamt of that terrified him so. She hoped he’d trust her enough to tell her one day. 

Finally she slept, the Bon Iver cover swirling in her head and as she slept her arms tightened around him instinctively, chasing any nightmares away simply from her presence. 

And neither questioned it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Anna sings to Steve is "I Can't Make You Love Me" and the version she sings is the Bon Iver cover of the Tank original. I recommend listening to both versions! If they don't make you swoon then I don't know what will. 
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> -M


	9. The Counter Punch

Anna stirred when she felt the mattress shift under her hip. “Roberto,” she grumbled with her face in the pillow. “Do you have to bounce on the bed?”

A soft voice chuckled and the familiar smell of leather, old after-shave and musk washed over her, making her eyes snap open. She sat up, wide awake now, and stared wildly at a sheepishly grinning Steve Rogers, who was in the process of getting out of bed. 

“Steve!” she gasped, her cheeks warming as she realized her hair was frizzy and her shirt had rucked up during the night. “Hi!” She hurriedly straightened her shirt and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to tame the wild curls. She didn’t notice the way his eyes gazed in wonder at her revealed belly ring. And she certainly didn’t notice the hungry way his eyes drifted over her hip bones as she shifted in the bed. 

He blushed and muttered, “Good morning,” before turning away to pull on his shoes.

Anna frowned, still sleep-fuddled, and stretched out a hand to touch his shoulder. “Where are you going?” 

His skin burned at her gentle touch and he jumped away from her, his cheeks darkening further. “I, uh, should go. You should get some more sleep before work and uh, I should get home to uh, water my plants.” He cringed at that last and tried to ignore the memory of her flat belly and that cheeky belly ring with its leaping dolphin dancing in her navel. Keep your eyes to yourself, Rogers, he snapped as his skin warmed uncomfortably. 

Anna was kneeling on the bed, her hand still suspended as she watched him blush and stammer. “Plants?” she asked, her voice incredulous. “You have to get home to water your plants?” 

He cringed again and nodded, his hands clenching at his side. She snorted and climbed out of the bed. “Stop shitting me Rogers,” she growled as she moved past him. She caught his hand and tugged him down the hall. “You’re going to stay for breakfast at least.” 

As they passed the living room he heard the TV going and he glanced through the doorway to see a surprised Roberto, spoon full of soggy cereal frozen halfway to his mouth, and he groaned internally. How would they explain his presence to her little brother?! To an outside eye it would look like…

His cheeks paled as he realized it would look like they’d…been together. 

“Anna,” he muttered as she hauled him into the kitchen. “This is wrong. I should just go. Roberto’s going to think…”

She raised an eyebrow and snorted. “Roberto’s going to think what? That we’re-“

“Are you guys dating now?” 

Both adults jumped at the kid’s voice behind them and Steve turned slowly to see Roberto standing in the doorway with his nearly empty cereal bowl in his hands and a look of confused excitement in his eyes. 

Steve sighed and turned back to Anna. “See?” he hissed but she only rolled her eyes and opened the fridge. 

“No half-pint, Steven and I are not dating,” she muttered as she took out eggs and a packet of bacon. “He just spent the night because I felt he was too tired to drive that damned bike of his.” 

Roberto frowned and set his bowl in the sink. “But he slept in your bed?” 

Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, missing the amused glance Anna shot him. She bumped her brother with her hip and bent forward to kiss his nose. “Guess what baby brother,” she said softly. “It’s none of your business.” 

He opened his mouth to say something but she placed two fingers on his lips and shook her head. “Shut up,” she hissed and he nodded. “Okay!” she said cheerfully as she began prepping for breakfast. “Who wants eggs and bacon this morning?”

She shot a challenging glare to Steve who sighed and dropped his coat on the kitchen chair he’d sat in the night before. “I’ll help you,” he muttered as he began rolling his sleeves up. Anna’s eyes drifted over his muscled forearms and she felt that deep-down shiver roll up her spine as she remembered the way his white cotton undershirt had clung to his chest the night before. 

Clearing her throat she turned to Roberto and said, her voice only a little weak, “How about you teach Steve how to make cheddar biscuits! That will be good this morning, right?” 

Roberto’s eyes narrowed for a moment as he took in her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes; he may only be thirteen but he’d seen enough chick-flicks to know when a girl was falling in love. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. 

Finally he sighed and turned to the cupboard that held the mixing bowls and cookie sheets. “Okay Anna,” he grumbled. “Come on Steve, let’s get this started.” 

It was quiet in the kitchen as the three worked on making breakfast. The tiny space was cramped with the three of them working and occasionally Steve or Anna’s hips would brush; each time it happened, they’d jump apart with murmured apologies and faint blushes heating their cheeks and Roberto’s eyes would narrow. 

By the time the frittata and biscuits were done, the tension was palpable. Anna was so nervous she almost poured orange juice in her coffee. Sweet Mary Mother of God, she thought as her hand shook. Get a hold of yourself girl!

She froze when Steve pried the pitcher of juice from her and murmured, “Let me.” She thought she would melt in her chair as she raised her eyes to his and almost drowned in their deep blue depths; he smiled absently, his eyes just as caught by hers as she was by his. Unknowingly they leaned closer to each other and her eyelids fluttered closed. 

They both jumped when Roberto reached between them, rudely reaching across the table to grab a biscuit. “Oops!” he said as his elbow connected with her ribs making her gasp and break eye-contact with Steve. “Sorry Anna!” 

She shook herself, trying to clear her suddenly fuzzy head and she frowned at Roberto. “Manners, ‘Berto! You ask, don’t reach.” 

“Sorry,” he muttered as he ducked his head towards his plate. Neither adult noticed the tiny smirk on his lips. 

She glanced at Steve and breathed a sigh of relief as he busied himself with his plate. What is the deal?! She thought as her body thrummed and burned with the memories of his smoldering eyes. You barely know this guy! Don’t get your panties in a knot just because you spent the night beside him!

Suddenly a memory of the night before made her gasp and drop her fork on the floor. Her eyes were wide as she remembered waking to find Steve wrapped around her, their legs entangled and their hands folded together against her belly. Her back had been pressed against his chest, her butt cradled by his hips with her head tucked under her chin and she had only smiled and settled back upon the pillow as if that had been the most normal thing in the world.

Normal. 

“Oh god,” she choked. She felt Steve and Roberto’s eyes on her as she pushed away from the table. She didn’t say anything as she ran from the kitchen, simply pressed her fingers to her mouth, and made for her bathroom. 

Normal. 

As if having Steve Rogers in her bed with his arms around her had been simply natural. 

Should have known better, she thought as she slammed the bathroom door closed. Seriously, what did you expect? That man in your bed, you’re lucky the only thing that happened was some minor spooning!

She gasped and buried her face in her hands. 

“You barely know him,” she whispered. “You barely know him and now he’s going to think you’re a slut! No wonder he wanted to get out of here so fast this morning. God, Adrianna! You are such a screw-up.” 

She raised her head to gaze at herself in the mirror and her eyes slid out of focus as she remembered his warm hands on her skin. It had felt so good, so normal, so natural, having Steve wrapped around her like a solid, very warm blanket. 

“Why?” she whispered. 

Before she could answer that question there was a soft knock on the door. She jumped as Steve said, “Anna, are you okay?” 

She stared avidly at the door and imagined that hulking man on the other side of the thin wood. Her hand rose unbidden to press against the door and she shivered at the imagined heat of his body beating through it. 

“Anna?” he asked again, his voice concerned. “Do you need help?” 

She smiled as she imagined his slight frown and she shivered. Suddenly, before she could question her motives, she threw open the door to confront a worried Steve Rogers. 

They stared at each other for a moment and she realized he knew why she’d panicked. Her mind spun as she tried to decide how to go about this when suddenly his fingers were moving over her cheek to cradle the back of her head. He didn’t say anything as he pulled her into his arms, he simply pressed his cheek to her hair. 

“It’s okay Anna, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he murmured as her hands twisted themselves into his shirt. 

She shuddered as his hand rubbed up and down her back while his other gently massaged the back of her neck. “I don’t want you to think I’m a-a-a hussy or something Steve, because I’m not. I just…”

He smiled against her hair, a sad, bitter smile and murmured, “You were just as lonely and scared as I was Anna. I understand.” 

She sighed, her body relaxing against his and he shivered as her fingers uncurled to rest against his stomach. “Did you…um…” she swallowed, the memory of her body tight against his making her legs tremble. “Did you…”

He smiled wryly and leaned back to see her face. “Why do you think I was trying to leave? I didn’t want you to think I was pressuring you. I…” he hesitated and tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. “I didn’t want you to think I was trying to force you into something you didn’t want.” 

She gazed at him, her dark Italian eyes smoldering, and then her hand was cradling his face. “You didn’t have to leave,” she murmured. The corner of her mouth twitched up in a smile and he found himself yearning to press a kiss to her full lips. “That was the safest I’ve felt, Steve, since my parents…died.” She frowned as her palm rubbed against the blonde stubble on his jaw. “You’re so bizarre Steve Rogers,” she murmured as she hauled herself up on her tiptoes. 

Before he knew what was happening, she was kissing him. It was gentle, tentative and he realized as his lips met hers he wanted more. Her lips parted under his firm caresses and he jumped when her tongue darted out to stroke his lips. Her eyes were hooded, dark coals framed by thick, dark eyelashes and he could taste the basil from the frittata on her breath. 

“Anna,” he whispered, his lips sucking against her instinctively. “Anna, stop.” 

She didn’t; instead her hands rose to tangle in his hair as her teeth nipped gently at his lips as he pulled away. “Steve,” she groaned in frustration as he set her back against the sink. He only shook his head and cradled her head in his large hands. “Anna, wait. I can’t do this like this,” he said breathlessly, his cheeks flushed and his eyes lit with deep passion. 

She stared at him, slightly flustered and he smoothed her hair back from her face. “Anna,” he said with a gentle smile. “You barely know me. You have to think about this.” 

She laughed in disbelief and shook her head, a difficult motion since he still held her. “Think about what? All I know, Steve, is that my little brother loves you, you kept me sane during that interrogation from Child Services and you held me like I’ve never been held last night. I don’t think there’s much to think about at this point!” She started to move towards him but he stopped her, his eyes wide with panic. 

“Okay, okay!” he said quickly, his hands tightening their hold. “I can understand that I suppose, but we have to go about this the right way.” He paused and took a deep breath, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “We have to go about this the right way,” he repeated, his voice soft. Forgive me Peggy. Then he opened his eyes, dropped his hands from her face and busied himself with straightening his shirt and hair. 

Anna watched him, her heart hammering in her chest, terror gripping her at the thought of him leaving. Had she gone too far? She hadn’t realized she was kissing him until she’d felt his lips meeting hers and his hands burying themselves in her hair. Had she pushed him too much? Her hands shook as she folded her arms defensively over her chest and she prepared for the worst. 

Steve gathered his courage as he straightened the cuffs of his shirt; he watched her from the corner of his eyes, watched as she firmed her jaw and straightened her spine. She thought he was going to push her away, he realized. She thought he was going to scold her and leave her. 

He wondered if he should. 

Then he thought of Roberto and waking this morning with her in his arms. He realized, much like he had realized last night at the museum, that the Conti’s had become his lifeline in this new world. He didn’t think he could let go of that lifeline now. 

“Anna,” he said softly, raising his eyes to hers. She flinched, her eyes going blank as she prepared for the worst and he hurried to reassure her. Grabbing her clenched hand gently in his he forged ahead, saying, “Adrianna Conti, I was wondering if you would want to go on a date with me next Thursday?” 

She froze, her eyes widening as she took in his sparkling gaze and the way he held her hand. “Date? Next Thursday?” she choked out and he nodded. 

“That is your next day off, isn’t it?” he asked, suddenly nervous. 

She laughed breathlessly and nodded. “It is,” she said as his fingers stroked hers. 

He smiled, the expression boyish on his usually stoic face and she felt her heart flip over in her chest. “Great!” he said, excited at this spur-of-the-moment plan. “Can I pick you up around 6?” 

She nodded again, her mind reeling at this sudden change in personality. “Yes, that’s fine,” she murmured. Then her gaze sharpened as he released her hand. “Where are we going?”

He hesitated and then cupped her chin in his hand and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “It’s a surprise,” he whispered against her lips. 

And then he was gone. 

She leaned against the sink, her knees shaking and she vaguely heard him call goodbye to Roberto, thanking him for breakfast. The front door slammed a second later and she slid all of the way down to the floor. 

“Oh god,” she whispered as her hand rose to press against her lips. “What…”

“Anna?” 

She looked up to see a panicked Roberto standing in the doorway. “Is everything okay?” he asked as he dropped to his knees in front of her. His hands patted at her gently and she laughed. “Yeah, baby, everything is fine,” she said as she leaned her head back against the cupboard doors. “Everything is…fine!”

His eyes were wide as he settled on his heels and he cocked his head. “Oooh-kay,” he said slowly. “Mind elaborating?”

She opened her eyes and reached out to cup his face between her palms. He squawked and she laughed giddily. “He’s taking me on a date ‘Berto! A date!” 

Roberto only stared at her, his mouth slightly agape. She laughed once more, planted a kiss on his nose and danced from the room humming a song to herself. 

He watched her go and tried to ignore his worry as he remembered Steve violently grabbing his sister by the throat last night. 

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” he whispered as he rose to follow her out of the bedroom. 

**

Steve went to Big Joe’s. He had no idea what he had done, asking Anna out on a date, but seeing her all tousled and bright eyed, he’d known that he had to do it now or regret it forever. 

The sound of whining jet engines played in the back of his head and he cringed as he tore through traffic towards the gym. His hands clenched tightly on the bike’s handlebars and he tried to ignore his sudden panic. 

What am I going to do? He thought to himself as he parked the bike in the alley beside the gym. What do people do on dates in this day-and-age? His hand stilled on the door to the gym as he remembered her lips moving under his and he flinched. Not that, he thinks as he opened the door. Yet. In his distraction he almost missed the flyer taped to the window by the door. 

The flyer that said Bailey’s Hosts the Spring Fling Dance. He stopped, yanked the flyer off the window and read the rest of the advertisement. 

If you love the Big Band Era or are feeling nostalgic for the days of sweet jazs, heels, fedoras and rounded fenders, come to Bailey’s for a night of classic big band music and ballroom dancing. Bring your partner and your best dancing shoes on April 1st 2012 at 8pm. Tickets are $40 per person. 

“April 1st?” he whispered, his hands tightening around the flyer. This coming Thursday. 

He smiled happily and entered the gym; before he got very far though his smile slid off of his lips and he remembered the conversation he’d had with Peggy so long ago and yet not that long ago. 

I might even, when this is all over, go dancing, she’d said, a small smile on her full, red lips. He’d felt like he was dying, his body all live-nerves and deep excitement as her dark eyes smoldered at him. Before he could even think, he’d asked what she was waiting for. Her smile had only deepened and as she’d prepared to leave that seedy pub he and the Commandos had taken over, she’d murmured, The right partner.

The right partner. 

His fist tightened around the paper and he pinched the bridge of his nose. The right partner. 

Had Peggy been the one for him? Had he lost his one chance at love by dropping that plane in the ice? Had he somehow missed his chance at dancing because of that one act of heroism? 

Or was he getting a second chance now? 

Sighing, he folded the paper away, stuffing it in his pants pockets as he made his way to the locker room. He had to think, gather his thoughts, figure out his next course of action. As he made his way through the gym he greeted the usuals, stopping to chat with a few of the men who sat around smoking and playing poker. 

As he chatted casually with the men, he relaxed. Everything was going to be fine, he told himself over and over. He’d figure this out just like he always had. 

Finally he was wrapping tape over his knuckles and as he made his way to his customary corner he rolled his shoulders. The muscles bunched and pulled under his white shirt and he took a deep breath. 

He would think about this, think about Anna…No, he gritted his teeth as his knuckles thudded into the canvas. Don’t think about Anna. Think about the patterns, think about the patterns you need to go through, think about pulling the punch, think about…her dark eyes under those dark eyelashes, the feel of her hands smoothing over your chest. 

“No,” he growled as the bag spun and a trickle of sand slid from the seams. “Get her out of your head Rogers.” 

But she wouldn’t leave; he saw her as he’d first seen her, the dark singer on the dimly lit Alcott stage singing that blasted Gershwin. He saw her that night in the kitchen as she made spaghetti and joked with her brother. He saw her last night as his fingers closed around her throat. 

He shivered, his fingers tightening against the canvas as he pushed that horrible memory away.

He saw her as she threw herself in front of his bike, her eyes begging him to listen to her, to not leave. He remembered the feel of her warm body pressed against his this morning, a small smile on her lips as he cradled her in his arms. 

His eyes fluttered closed at the warm desire once more rushing through him as he remembered stroking her cheek gently and bringing a strand of her hair to his nose. She had been so peaceful this morning and he realized now that he’d wanted nothing more than to lean over her and kiss her awake. To be the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes. 

“Get a hold of yourself Rogers,” he whispered once more; he tapped his knuckles lightly against the canvas, making the bag swing. “It’s just a date, not a marriage proposal.” 

He was concentrating so hard on keeping himself calm, he didn’t hear Big Joe come up behind him; suddenly the smell of cigars hit him and he turned to see the old boxer watching him thoughtfully, his hands jammed in his tweed pants and his bowler hat pushed back so Steve could see some of his receding ginger hair. 

“Hey Cap,” the man said, smoke billowing out of his mouth as he spoke. “Thinking about boxing for me in the next two weeks?” 

Steve’s lips twitched as he relaxed his tense stance. “No Joe,” he said, busying himself with the tape wrapping his knuckles. “Just thinking.” 

“Hmm” hummed the big man. He rocked backwards and forwards on his feet, his blue eyes considering as he took in the behemoth of a boxer in front of him. “What were you thinking about so hard? It must have been pretty intense judging by the amount of sand pooled under that bag.” 

Steve flushed as he realized he’d broken yet another one of Joe’s bags and he rummaged in his pocket for his wallet. Joe stopped him though with a short, cigar smoke fueled, laugh and shook his head. “No, no, son. Don’t worry about it. We’ll have Danny tape it up with duct tape. We’ll have your boy use it until it really splits its seams.” He chewed his cigar thoughtfully as Steve nodded and then he turned back to the office. “Come with me Cap,” he said over his shoulder as he began prowling back through his gym. 

Steve hesitated, glanced at the bag and then sighed. When would Joe get it in his head that Steve didn’t want to box? Didn’t the man realize he was far stronger than any of the lushes he brought in? 

Shaking his head in resignation, he followed the rotund gym owner, his eyes watering as he passed through the hovering cloud of cigar smoke that followed Big Joe everywhere. When he appeared in the doorway of the office Joe turned to him and pointed to one of the leather chairs sat in front of his ancient desk. “Sit,” he said. 

Steve did, feeling a faint sense of déjà vu; why did this feel like he was about to get a lecture from a commanding officer? 

“Turn out your pockets,” Joe snapped, his eyes shadowed by the brim of his hat and the smoke pooling from the stub of his cigar. 

Steve’s mouth dropped open at the odd request and tried to think of an excuse for why he shouldn’t and then he sighed. Rummaging in his pockets he pulled out the flyer for the dance and his wallet. 

Joe gazed at the flyer for a moment and then smiling into his mustache, he snatched it up and shook it out so he could read the headline. “Ah, Bailey’s is having their annual fling again,” he muttered with a soft chuckle. “Great place that pub. They always have good music; my daughter was so excited when that one folk band showed up unannounced to play a gig, you know the one? Lots of banjo and those boys that look like they came out of the fields of Ireland? No? Oh well, look them up, they’re pretty good. Just don’t tell my Tish that, she’d squeal and never shut up about them.” He chuckled at the bewildered look on his companion’s face and he leaned forward, his finger stabbing the flyer. “So, taking your girl dancing huh?” he asked, his eyes glittering in the dim light of the office. 

Steve hesitated and then nodded, his hands suddenly sweaty against the tape. “Yes, I was thinking about it,” he muttered, his cheeks warming. 

Joe leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. “Good,” he said as he chewed on the cigar. “About time you got out of this gym! You need to see the City Cap, experience all the pleasures it can give! You’re young, you don’t need to spend all of your time with a bunch of old fogey boxers and preteen boys who can’t hold up a glove.” Steve opened his mouth to protest this argument but Joe waved him silent. “You only live once Cap, sometimes you need to just do something spontaneous. Besides, that girl is way more interesting than anything that’s happened in this gym for the past 30 years.” He smiled as Steve blushed once more and fiddled with the tape on his knuckles. 

Joe watched him for a few moments, a sly smile on his lips as he watched the play of emotions on the guy’s face and the slight tightening of his fists. “So, what’s the plan for this date?” he asked quietly. 

Steve jumped and then frowned, “Plan?” he choked out, his blue eyes worried. 

Joe sighed and tapped the flyer again. “Do you even know how to dance Rogers?” he asked in exasperation. 

Steve stared at him and then shook his head. Joe snorted and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Figures,” he grumbled. Then before Steve could say anything in his defense he stood up and hauled the younger man out of his chair. “All right Cap, forget the bags today. We’re going to dance to a different tune from now on. You can’t go to Bailey’s with that pretty little girl and not know how to dance. Because I can assure you, Adrianna Conti knows how to dance as well as sing and if you don’t want to be a complete schmuck you’re going to at least learn the waltz and the foxtrot.” 

He hauled him up onto the ring, ignoring the curious looks of the 3 or 4 men still hanging around and shouted, “Danny! Turn on Ella!” 

His youngest son, a boy of about 17, jumped from his position at the chess board spread between him and one of the old guys and ran towards the record player set in the corner by the office. 

Joe turned to Steve with an evil grin on his face and he held out his hands. “Okay Cap, let’s dance,” he said cheekily. 

Steve stared at him as Ella Fitzgerald began to croon from the speakers around them and choked out with a shocked laugh, “You know how to dance Joe?”

“Course I do,” blustered the older man. “Me and Dolly go dancing every Friday. It’s a vital lesson for every young man to learn. Plus,” he winked as he grabbed Steve by the waist and hand. “It’s a sure-fire way to get a girl in your bed.” 

Steve choked and blushed a furious red as Joe began grouching instructions at him. 

Suddenly he was being spun expertly around the ring, his ears going red as the men cat-called them and he gasped as Joe Dugan dipped him and said around his cigar, “By next Thursday we’re going to turn you into a veritable Antonio Banderas Captain.” 

Steve only stared at him as he was wrenched upright and spun in the opposite direction. “I don’t understand that reference,” he mumbled as Joe pulled him around the ring. 

Joe only laughed. “From now on Cap, you’re going to be focusing on not stepping on that dame’s toes when you take her out on that dance floor. We’re going to teach you right because if there’s one thing you don’t want to be with Adrianna Conti, it’s incompetent. Capice?” 

“Capice,” Steve said weakly as they ended up once more in the middle of the ring. 

“Good. Now put your hand on my waist,” snapped the older man with a malicious little grin. 

Steve felt like he was going to melt into the ring as Joe positioned his hands and poked him in the hip. Please let Roberto not walk in in the middle of this, he prayed as Joe began giving him instructions. I don’t know how I’ll explain this…


	10. Go the Distance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays everyone!
> 
> Here's a long one for you. 
> 
> Thanks for the interest in the story. I love reading your comments and hearing your feedback. It means a lot. 
> 
> Let me know how the date goes. 
> 
> -M

Steve was taking her dancing; Roberto let slip that he’d caught Steve dancing with Big Joe twice throughout the week leading to their date and while the blonde veteran had tried to persuade the kid that Anna’s toes were going to be safe, Roberto wasn’t convinced.

He managed to keep it to himself until Thursday morning. When Anna came home from work, exhausted but cheerful, he blurted out over his bowl of frosted flakes, “Steve’s going to squash your toes Anna.”

She only stared at him, halfway done with removing her jacket, her mouth agape. “What?!” she exclaimed, shocked at this outburst.

Roberto flushed and ducked his head guiltily. “Steve’s taking you dancing,” he muttered as he trailed his spoon through the soggy flakes. “Big Joe is teaching him how to dance. There’s some big thing going on tonight that Steve’s taking you to.”

Anna slid the rest of the way out of her jacket and plopped into the kitchen chair next to her brother. “Really,” she said slowly, thoughtfully. “That’s interesting.”

Roberto was quiet for a second, completely fascinated with the dreamy look on his older sisters face. “Anna?” he asked quietly, nervously. She didn’t respond. He snapped his fingers in front of her eyes, bringing her attention back to earth and he continued, “Anna is this good? Are you…are you sure you want to do this?”

Her mouth popped open and she burst out laughing. “Baby!” she snorted as she wrapped her arms around him. “You are so silly. Of course I want this. I like Steve a lot, he’s a good guy. He has issues but we all do. You don’t have to worry about me. Plus you like him right?”

Roberto nodded, only partially convinced and he sighed. “What are you going to wear?”

She gasped and released him, her hands flying to her tousled hair. “Oh no! What am I going to wear?!” she shrieked, horrified. Her mind flitted through the few options she had in her closet and when Roberto tapped her firmly in the middle of her forehead she almost groaned.

He only smiled and said, “The Chanel dress.”

Anna froze, her eyes wide and horrified. “That…one? Really?” she whispered weakly.

Roberto nodded solemnly, being careful to not mention her horror at unwrapping what they had nicknamed the Baccall dress. She had never worn it…never even taken it out of the Chanel dress bag.

“Please?” Roberto whispered, hopeful.

They stared at each other for a long moment, considering each other and then Anna sighed and nodded.

“The Chanel. Got it.”

Roberto beamed and hugged her. “You’ll knock him dead sis!” he crowed as he tore out of the kitchen.

Anna stared after him and then glanced down at her shaking hands. “I can always change my mind,” she whispered.

She knew she wouldn’t. Roberto wanted her to wear it. And somehow, she couldn’t see herself dancing in Steve Rogers’ arms in anything else.

“O-o-okay,” she breathed as she headed for her room and a day of relaxation. Or more likely, stressing about her date. “I need a cigarette,” she murmured as she stood in front of her closet and stared at the black dress bag at the back of her closet hidden between her black funeral clothes.

Without a second thought she made her way to the roof and her pack of Camels.

________________________________________

Steve stood in his living room on Thursday morning and watched the sun rise over the City. He hadn’t slept all night, his mind obsessed with the dance patterns he had learned from the very capable Big Joe.

Glancing at the stereo system SHIELD had provided without clear instructions he decided now was the time to learn how to work the modern monstrosity.

Within the hour Frank Sinatra was crooning from the speakers and Steve’s sparse furnishings had been shoved absently against the walls to free the floor space. With his eyes closed he moved slowly around the room, one arm suspended as if looped around a dame’s waist and the other cupped the air.

He couldn’t help picturing Anna cradled in his arms, with soft jazz playing in the background. He wondered if he should wear a suit…he wondered if she was going to wear pants. That seemed to be a common thing with dames in this day and age. He shivered at the thought of her in the clothes from his youth. It wasn’t too much of a stretch of the imagination to picture her in the pin-up styles of the 40’s.

Not too much of a stretch at all…

A small smile ghosted across his lips as he drifted through the steps but he stumbled when a voice said from the doorway, “Big date tonight Cinderella?”

Steve froze, his body settling into a defensive boxers stance as he turned to the shadowy figure standing on the threshold of his living room. He relaxed, only slightly, as his visitor moved out of the shadows to reveal Director Nick Fury.

“Hello Director. Anything I can do for you today?” Steve asked, his voice chill but respectful.

Fury smirked and perched on the arms of one of the armchairs pushed haphazardly against the wall. “How are you doing Cap? Haven’t seen you at headquarters for a while.”

Steve folded his arms, his eyes narrowing at the pointed questions. “What do you need Fury?” he asked quietly, not buying the sudden concern of the Director of SHIELD.

Fury sighed and stood, pulling some files from his coat. “Thought you might be interested in these; they’re files on a certain Russian assassin we’ve come across within the past months that bears a certain resemblance to Army snipers you once partnered with during the War. If you could,” he held the files out towards the reluctant Captain. “Look at them and see if you can make any connections or find any similarities between anyone you might have known back in the day.”

“’Back in the day’ Colonel? Everyone from ‘back in the day’ is dead,” he said slowly as he flipped a file labeled with the moniker “The Winter Soldier” slashed across the top in delicate handwriting open to gaze at the fuzzy picture of a man dressed in black with shaggy dark brown hair. “The Winter Soldier?” he asked, his eyebrows arched.

Fury stood and shrugged. “It’s what one of our agents calls him. She’s come in contact with him the most, even shared missions with him when she wasn’t on our side. Read the file Cap. We could use your insight.”

Steve glanced up and jumped at the sight of the empty apartment. “Like a ghost,” he murmured as he flipped through the file. He stopped at another picture of the mysterious assassin, his brow furrowing as he studied the man’s features. “Who are you?” he asked the picture.

The picture of the Russian didn’t answer.

The doorbell did ring though. Which made Steve jump skittishly.

The files dropped, forgotten, into one of the leather armchairs as he headed for the front door. Just as he got there a knock sounded and he yanked it open to reveal a nervous Roberto standing, fist suspended mid-knock on the landing.

“Roberto!” Steve said at the same time that the kid said his name.

“I-“  
“What-“

They paused awkwardly and then Steve gestured for him to come in. “Better come in kid. What’s going on? Shouldn’t you be at school?”

Roberto fiddled with his jacket as he studied Steve’s apartment and as the silence grew he blurted, “What are your intentions with my sister?”

Steve frowned and sat in one of his chairs, his hand running over his stubbled chin. “My intentions? With Anna?” he asked, his voice cautious.

“Yeah,” Roberto mumbled, his cheeks warming. “I just…yeah…uh…”

Steve’s frown eased and his lips lifted in a small smile. This kid was so fiercely protective of Anna; was it any surprise he was as worried as them about tonight? He’d seen Steve lash out at his older sister, he’d seen the two of them come out of her room the next morning and now Steve was taking her dancing.

If their positions were reversed Steve would be worried as well.

“Roberto,” he sighed, his hand rising to pinch the bridge of his nose. “My intentions…my feelings about Anna are complicated. I can’t expect you to understand…” His voice trailed away as he remembered waking up with her soft body cradled in his arms and he tried to push away the guilt-ridden desire suddenly rushing through his veins.

The kid’s eyes were thoughtful as he watched his older friend and mentor and then he folded his arms stubbornly and said, “Yeah? Try me. Why are you and Anna so interested in each other? I’ve seen enough rom com’s to know what’s going on here.”

Steve hesitated, unsure what the kid meant by “rom com” but after a moment decided it would be okay to tell him a little bit about what he was feeling when it came to his older sister and the woman he had loved so long ago.

“Before I came to Brooklyn, Roberto,” he began slowly, carefully. “I was acquainted with this beautiful woman named Peggy Carter. She was in the Army like myself and she was the most stunning woman I had ever met. We liked each other, got along really well but the Army is no place to strike up a relationship so we never had much of a chance to go beyond friendship. And then I did something self-sacrificing and probably pretty stupid and I lost every chance I’d ever had to tell Peggy how I felt. When I met you I’d just gotten to Brooklyn and well you and your sister have made my return pretty easy to deal with. Anna’s special…because she doesn’t push me. She’s easy to be around and you are too. You two are relaxing and kind. Something I didn’t know I needed until I stumbled upon you in that alley.” His lips twitched in a small smile.

Roberto frowned, the simple answer worrying him. Not to mention this beautiful Peggy Carter. “Steve…you’re not rebounding on my sister are you?”

The older man stared at him for a moment and then choked out, “Rebounding? What do you mean?”

Roberto sighed and waved his hand. “Never mind. So why exactly are you and Anna dating now? I guess I don’t understand. Anna’s never given any guy the time of day in the past. She’s always been busy with work, school and me. So why you?”

Steve was quiet for a moment, his eyes distant as he thought about the night he’d slept at her side. Why. That was the question. Why were they so attracted to each other?

“I don’t know Roberto,” he muttered as he stood. “You should ask her that question.”

Holding his hand out for the kid to take he said, “All right. You need to stop worrying and you need to get to school. Your sister is going to kill me if she gets a call that you’re skipping.”

Roberto considered further grilling of the Captain, but seeing the man’s serious frown and the slight sparkle of his eyes he knew he wouldn’t get any information.

“Okay,” he grumbled as he used Steve’s hand to pull himself upright. “I just wanted to make sure nothing hinky is going on.”

Steve’s lips twitched as he herded the kid out of his apartment and down the stairs towards the lobby. “Nothing hinky, kid. We’re just going dancing tonight. You don’t have to worry.” Roberto only nodded as Steve handed him the helmet. Steve bent so he could see the kid’s eyes, clapped his hand on the top of the helmet and smiled gently. “You’re a good brother Roberto. She’s very lucky to have you.”

Roberto smiled from under the visor of the helmet and said, “You really have no idea Cap. She was going to wear jeans and a t-shirt tonight.”

He laughed and climbed onto the bike. Steve frowned and wondered briefly if he should ask for some clarification but glancing at his watch and noting the time he figured it would be best to get the kid to school before they all got in trouble.

“All right kid,” he said as he swung onto the bike, slipped his sunglasses on and started the bike in one smooth motion. “Let’s get you to school.”

He missed Roberto muttering about how being an adult must be nice.

The ride to St. Francis was quiet, each occupant consumed with his own thoughts. Steve  
thought about Roberto’s concerns and Roberto thought about what this man would say when he saw Anna in her dress.

He hoped he’d get to see it.

________________________________________

Scarlet silk clung to all of her curves, gently accentuating the flare of her hips and the soft swell of her breasts. The simple A-line cut had a vintage feel, something she had loved even 2 years ago when she first bought it. That, of course, had been before she’d started singing age-old ballads in a burlesque. It had been so long ago she’d almost forgotten what the dress looked like. Almost.

Anna’s eyes were wide as she stared at the dark eyed vixen in the mirror and tried to keep from panicking. The only time she’d worn this dress her mother had been standing behind her in the dressing room exclaiming about how beautiful she was and that if she wore this for her audition for the Julliard Theatre Orchestra then she was sure to get in.

That had seemed so important that day in the Chanel studio…

The last time she’d even seen the dress the paramedics had handed it to her while she stood in the morgue of the Brooklyn Medical Center over her parents still figures.

Was it just her imagination? Or did this dress smell like death?

The feel of the soft silk was constricting and she resisted tearing the delicate fabric from her body. Why had she pulled this dress from the hanger? Why had she kept it? Why had the EMT’s kept it?!

With a panicked gasp her fingers scrambled at the tiny zipper set in the soft layers of silk at her ribcage but before she could tear the dress from her body, someone knocked on her bathroom door.

Anna froze, her dark eyes widening in panic as she stared at the door. It couldn’t be Steve-she still had ten minutes!

“Anna? Are you okay?”

She sighed. “Hi ‘Berto,” she said cheerfully as she pulled open the door. “How’s it going half-pint?”

He didn’t answer, just stared at the woman who had replaced his older sister.

The soft silk draped her perfectly and this paired with the loose waves of her hair pinned back in soft victory rolls gave her the look of an ingénue from a film noir. Her eyes were lined and mascaraed, bright red lipstick, the same exact shade of the dress, painted her lips and the only thing missing from the entire get up was a cigarette and a birdcage veil.

“Wow,” he whispered, his dark eyes wide with wonder. “You…wow Anna!”

She hesitated and then ran her hands nervously over the silk. “Is it too much?” she asked nervously. “Should I chan-“

“No!” shouted Roberto, his eyes wide with horror now. “No way! It’s perfect! You’re perfect! Steve won’t know what hit him when he sees you!”

Anna relaxed unconsciously. Suddenly the dress didn’t seem quite so much of a death trap.

That is, until Roberto spoke up again. “I always wondered what it looked like. It must have been something if Poppy took you to Chanel.”

Her mouth went dry as the horrible memories of that day once more overwhelmed her and she almost slammed the door in her brother’s face. But at that moment the door buzzed and they both froze, comical expressions of horror and excitement on each of their faces.

“Get the door!” she hissed as she slammed the bathroom door in her baby brother’s face and hurried to finish getting ready. She still needed to put on her shoes and jewelry.

Steve’s lips twitched in a small smile as he heard Roberto tearing through the house on his way towards the door; he could hear music playing from within and the mellow jazz did wonders at calming his nerves.

He wondered if he shouldn’t have worn a suit…

Suddenly the door was thrown open and he was confronted with a panting Roberto.

“Hey kid,” he said with a soft chuckle. “How’s it going?”

There was a loud crash from the back of the flat and they both glanced up at the sound of Anna swearing violently. Roberto chuckled nervously and turned back to his older friend. “Oh you know. It’s date night. If something hasn’t caught on fire yet then she’s not committed. How you doing Steve? You cleaned up well.” He stepped aside so the Captain could enter the apartment. He didn’t ask about the flat box Steve held or the delicate flowers resting on the box.

Steve glanced down at himself and tried to ignore the tightness in his chest. He’d always hated wearing ties but tonight was important so he’d gone out of his way to make sure he looked good.

He wanted to look good for Anna.

Plus, according to Big Joe, Armani made the best suits.

He and Roberto headed for the living room where a Louis Armstrong album played in the background and they settled on the couch in uncomfortable silence. Steve’s leg jiggled up and down nervously. Roberto kept jumping at the little noises coming from down the hall.

Finally, when the silence had gotten so tense Steve was sure the two of them would dissolve into hysterical screams, there was the sound of the bedroom door opening and the soft tap of heels on the hardwood floors of the hallway.

Steve shot off of the couch and almost dropped the box and the flowers. His quick reflexes saved the gifts though and he laughed in relief before raising his eyes to look at the figure standing in the doorway.

He did drop the box and flowers at that point though.

His jaw fell open at the sight of the sultry beauty standing before them and for an interminable moment words failed him utterly.

Distantly he felt a great sense of relief at the fact that he wore an expensive suit tonight.

He wondered how any woman could ever compare to Anna in this moment. She was stunning, all dark Italian beauty clothed in soft scarlet silk that draped around her curvaceous figure like an elegant glove. His heart hammered as their eyes locked and the mirror look of appreciation in her gaze made his palms start to sweat.

She spoke first, soft laughter in her voice as she said, “You dropped your flowers Captain Rogers.”

She approached him as he remained frozen in position and his skin shuddered as her spicy scent rolled over him. His eyes followed her as she knelt daintily and picked up the fallen box and flowers in its delicate wrappings. She met his gaze and he nearly choked at the darkness of her eyes. Hot desire flashed over his skin like a wildfire and his already dry mouth was transformed into a desert as she placed the box and flowers in his hands.

How was he going to do this tonight?

Why were modern dress slacks so tight?

He cleared his throat weakly as she smiled gently at him and choked out, “Hi.”

“Hi,” she replied, her red lips lifted in a small smile. “How are you?”

“Hot,” he blurted. His face flushed and his eyes closed in horror at the outburst. Her soft laugh did nothing to help the tightness in his body.

“Oh, well, maybe we should take a walk before we go out?” she asked, her voice slightly husky as her own desire grew at the sight of the soft wave of his lashes breaking upon the hollows of his eyes. This man was stunning tonight. So stunning…

He shook his head briefly and fought back the heat washing over his skin. “Wait. I have to do this right,” he said as he opened his eyes. Placing both gifts on the couch beside a thoughtful Roberto he gathered her hand gently in his own and opened the flowers wrappings. Glancing at her so he could judge her reaction at the bright yellow daisies arranged delicately upon the soft white ribbon, he said, “When I was growing up it was tradition for the guys to get the girls flowers. So I thought I’d go with tradition tonight.”

“They’re beautiful Steve!” she gasped, memories of the first flowers he’d gotten her coming to mind. How had he known she loved daisies? And that yellow was her favorite color?

Maybe Roberto had told him?

He handed her the garment box he’d brought for her. “This is for you too,” he said with a small smile.

“Steve,” she scolded as he set the box in her hands. “You shouldn’t have gotten me anything.”

He shrugged, his eyes sparkling with laughter. “It’s nothing. Go on, open it.”

She did and her soft gasp was all he needed to know she loved the gift. The rich smell of soft, expensive, leather filled the living room as she pulled out a supple woman’s riding jacket. It was a deep, deep brown, the exact color of her eyes, something she didn’t notice but Steve did with pleasure. He’d made the right decision despite the designer’s insistence that tan colors were big this season, not deep colors.

This was perfect…

“Oh my God,” she whispered as the heavy leather settled in her hands. “This is gorgeous. Oh Steve,” her eyes rose to his incredulously. “This is way too much.”

“It’s really not,” he said softly as he rested his hands on hers. “Think of it as a gesture of my thanks for all of the help you’ve given me the past few days.”

She hesitated still further and he bent his head down so he could meet her eyes, “Do you like it?”

He knew she did and when she laughed he smiled in relief. “Yes,” she murmured as she slid her arms through the sleeves. It settled around her shoulders and he sighed as it hugged her perfectly.

It was a perfect, perfect fit.

He’d been right in his estimations.

Before he could say anything she was running from the room. He glanced at Roberto as the sound of her rummaging through the front closet drifted towards them. The kid shrugged, his eyes shadowed.

They both turned when Anna returned, her arms full of the heavy leather of Steve’s coat he’d let her borrow after hitting her with his bike.

She smiled and held it out towards him. “A coat for a coat?” she asked with a soft laugh.

He nodded and took the jacket from her, and as he slid into it her soft scent rolled over him once more. He wondered how many times she’d worn it since he’d let her borrow it…

They were quiet, their eyes locked on each other’s; when Roberto cleared his throat they jumped guiltily and laughed. Anna’s little brother stood before them, the flowers in his hands and a small frown on his forehead. “Okay, well, you two be careful,” he said seriously. “Don’t be out too late, don’t drink too much and remember to use protection.”

Both adults flushed and Anna flicked his ear with a soft growl. “Shut up nerd,” she muttered as Steve shifted uncomfortably.

Roberto grinned, handed the delicate flowers to Steve and waved his hand. “Yeah, yeah. Get out of here. My History Channel show is about to start.”

Anna and Steve laughed as he threw himself across the couch and she smiled nervously as he offered his arm for her to take.

“Shall we?” he asked as he stroked her arm absently. She nodded, suddenly speechless at the feel of his fingers on her skin and she shivered as his musky scent assaulted her nose.

Then he escorted her out of the apartment and down the five flights of stairs of her building and out onto the street where a shiny silver Mercedes waited for them.

“No bike?” she asked weakly as he hurried to open the door for her.

“No bike,” he murmured as he handed her in. “I know how much you don’t like motorcycles Adrianna Conti.”

As he headed for the driver’s side of the door she wondered how he knew that.

How did he know so much about her?

She didn’t get a chance to ask, because the moment he settled in the car next to her his musky scent washed over her once more and she lost all train of thought.

It took all she had not to throw her arms around his neck and kiss those chiseled cheek bones standing out in stark relief in his profile.

She shivered as he pulled away from the curb and she wondered briefly how she was going to make it through the night with her morals intact.

It was going to take everything she had…

________________________________________

“That’s a beautiful dress,” Steve murmured halfway through dinner. He’d taken her to Lily’s Restaurant on Lincoln Avenue, a place she’d seen often when she went to Julliard but had never been to before.

Five star restaurants and college students never made a good mix.

She froze, her forkful of salad suspended halfway to her mouth and she swallowed heavily as a flush crept up her neck to warm her cheeks. The fork made an awful clatter as she set it down; her entire body had gone numb at the compliment and she tried to remember how to talk.

Finally she answered, her voice was quiet, pained as she said, “Thank you. I…I’ve never really worn it before tonight.”

Steve frowned at the shadows in her eyes and her suddenly shaking hands. He hadn’t expected a reaction like this when he’d complimented her. “Anna? Are you okay?”

She nodded and then shook her head, a weak laugh slipping from her lips. “I’m sorry, you probably think I’m such a freak,” she whispered as her hands fell from the table to wring themselves in her lap. Her head ducked and Steve’s eyes widened at the sight of a single tear falling to splash upon the linen table cloth.

“Anna! What’s wrong?!” His hand shot out to cup her chin and he lifted her head gently so he could meet her gaze. “Anna, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you!”

She smiled, her lips shaking slightly as she shook her head and whispered, “No, it’s not your fault. It’s me. I’m just having a bit of a crisis here.” And with that she stood and rushed from the restaurant.

Steve stared after her in surprise and then followed her, only pausing to grab her jacket and to have a quiet word with their waitress. He found her on the patio, her arms wrapped around herself and her head bowed against the chilly wind sweeping through the City.

She didn’t turn when she heard him slip through the glass doors, only sniffed and tightened her grip around herself. She tried to keep from panicking as he came up behind her and settled the jacket around her shoulders.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t touch her, simply rested his hands on the low brick wall surrounding the patio and waited to see if she would explain what had happened.

She wasn’t sure if she should tell him; it was their first date after all. But Steve was relaxing, non-judgmental. There was something about him that spoke of history, of a past deeper and far more tangled than her own. He was a good man and she trusted him. With her whole being.

She jumped as the realization struck her and she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was staring out at the City, his eyes shadowed and she was relieved to see that he wasn’t looking at her expectantly. If Anna didn’t want to tell him what had upset her, he wouldn’t pressure her. He would simply support her in the best way he knew how.

By simply being there for her.

Taking a deep breath she raised her head so she could look out over the City and she began her story.

“Two years ago, I was a Sophomore at Julliard. There was a big audition coming up for one of the ensemble performance groups. This group was pivotal because if you audition well and are accepted into its ranks it’s a sure thing that you’ll get hired by professional theatre groups and inevitably end up in a Broadway show. So this was a big deal for me. Well, Mamma and Poppy decided they’d take me out and get me a new audition dress.” Anna paused here, her words failing her as the memories began materializing and she shuddered. Steve, sensing her panic, sidled closer to her and rested his hand near her own. She silently blessed him for not touching her outright. She wasn’t sure if she could handle the kindness of the gesture at this moment.

Continuing with her story, she tried to keep from crying. “Poppy was so excited. He loved taking Mamma to boutiques and seeing her try clothes and jewelry on. It was the highlight of his weekends. He’d never done it with me though, so this was going to be a big deal. So Saturday morning rolled around, they left the restaurant in the capable hands of our friend Pearl, dropped Roberto off at a friends and took me out on the town. We went everywhere, the big Macy’s, Saks but where Poppy really wanted to go was the Chanel store. He didn’t tell me why and it wasn’t until later when I was walking out of the store with my new dress that he told me he’d gone there during the week and found the perfect dress for me. So we went to Chanel and he let me look around before revealing his surprise. I fell in love with a simple black dress, something I was sure would be the best purchase due to its versatility and clean lines but Poppy had his eye on a red dress he’d had set aside just for me. He requested it and when I refused to wear it he threatened to cut me out of the will.” She laughed at that, the sound harsh in the still air of the patio. Steve glanced at her, a small frown on his face; he had a feeling he knew where this was going. He wondered if he should stop her from continuing.

Seeing her face though, he realized this was a healing process for her. She’d probably never told anyone all of this story before. Not even her friend Anita.

So he kept silent, simply providing her comfort in his warmth.

“I tried on the dress of course; not because of Poppy’s threat. He was always doing things like that, mostly as a joke. No, I tried it on because I’d never seen let alone worn something so flamboyant.” Her fingers stroked her hip through the soft silk and Steve shivered as he imagined doing so himself. He snapped his mind back to the present as she said, “When I came out of that dressing room I thought Poppy was going to keel over; Mamma crossed herself and said a Hail Mary in Italian and all of the shop girls froze in the middle of what they were doing.” She chuckled and ran her fingers through the soft curls tumbled down her back, being careful to not disturb the pins. “That’s when I knew I’d found the perfect audition dress.”

Steve’s heart wrenched as her hands balled into little fists upon the wall and her figure trembled with the strength of her deep sigh. He longed to wrap her in the safety of his arms, to soothe away her pain, to fix her memories. He didn’t though. And it almost killed him as she got to the last part of her story.

“We left Chanel, Poppy all a flutter because he’d been right and the dress had been so perfect, Mamma nervously muttering about what my peers would say, all in Italian and me, stunned that I held a black Chanel clothier’s bag and a dress as red as blood. I couldn’t wait to try it on the moment we got home. I couldn’t wait to audition! The car ride was normal at first, traffic was crazy since it was a weekend and Poppy was busy yelling in angry Italian about tourists but nothing was wrong, nothing even seemed unusual.”

She sighed and picked at a scar in the cement of the wall.

Steve turned to her at that point and his hand rose to tuck an errant curl behind her ear. “Anna…” he said softly.

She shook her head and slapped her hands on the wall. “Everything was normal until the asshole ran a red light and struck our car hard enough to flip it. The police think he was drunk or high or something and he’d been speeding, going nearly twice the speed limit, and the moment that suburban hit our little Toyota it was all over. I woke up two days later in a hospital bed and the only thing I noticed was the pain. It wasn’t until they wheeled me to the morgue a day later so I could sign off on my parents before they were sent to the funeral home assigned in their papers that Roberto and I were orphans now.”

Her fingers fiddled with the silk of her dress and she ground out as her throat closed up, “I tried to burn the dress in my bathroom trashcan but a nurse caught me and I was put under 24 hour surveillance and kept sedated. By the time I was released I was a twitching paranoid mess and that dress vanished into the back of my closet and I never touched it again.”

She fell silent and Steve shivered at the pain in every line of her body. He turned her gently and pulled her into his arms. “Shh,” he murmured as her fingers twisted into his suit jacket. “It’s okay.” They stood like this for a moment and he asked, “So why are you wearing it tonight?”

She sniffed and laughed weakly. Pulling free of his arms, she glanced at him and her hand rose to stroke his cheek, “Because you make me feel safe, even though I’m clothed in the dress that killed my family and oddly enough it’s the prettiest thing I own. And impossibly, Steve Rogers, I wanted to look very pretty for you.”

And then she turned and left the patio, leaving him to ponder her words.

He followed after a moment, a small smile on his lips.

When they sat back at their table, the waitress brought their entrees promptly and they settled back into the comfortable conversation they’d been having before he’d brought up her dress.

Neither mentioned her story but Anna found herself wondering if she’d scared him away. Most guys would have panicked at that display; but Steve seemed even more comfortable with her now. The few shadows that had been present before her breakdown were truly gone and he smiled easily as the dinner went along.

She realized her placing her trust in him had broken some of his walls.

She wondered if he would break down the rest and tell her some of his deep secrets.

She wondered if that would help him dispel his ghosts and take away the haunted dreams he experienced.

She hoped so.

________________________________________

Anna’s soft laugh made Steve shiver as he helped her out of the Mercedes in front of Bailey’s. Jazz music poured from the open front door and people of all ages made their way towards the bar, some dressed in vintage style clothes, others simply in street clothes.

“Roberto was right!” she said as he offered her arm and escorted her towards the cheerfully lit pub.

Steve frowned as she entered before him and muttered, “I should have known the kid would let slip my secret.”

She laughed as she turned back to him, her eyes sparkling with excitement and suddenly  
she sang a soft lyric of the song currently playing, something he didn’t recognize, “Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away!”

He chuckled as one of the waitresses approached them and he pulled out his wallet to pay for the night’s festivities. Anna swayed gently as the music washed over her, and her soft voice drifted towards him, making his skin shudder at the skillful way she sang. Caught up in her bright excitement he gathered her into his arms and soon they were drifting around the Bailey’s dance floor, their bodies pressed closely together and each drowning in the other’s eyes.

They danced almost every dance, their bodies moving in perfect tandem with the others and Steve silently blessed Big Joe with every skillful dip he executed or complicated spin she made into his arms. Amazingly, Anna sang only for him, all of the songs the band played were known to her and her soft voice, paired with her body pressed against his, caused dark desire to burn hot trails over his skin.

Anna was a skillful dancer and while Steve was not perfect, she made him look good. She was like water in his arms, all smooth, graceful movements.

Steve was her rock, solid and warm under her hands. She trusted him, even when he dipped her the first time, and as she sang to him she watched as his eyes lightened till they were like ice and she shivered as his hands began to smooth over her body, burning firm fiery trails over her back and hips.

She wasn’t sure if he knew he touched her so. She didn’t protest it; it was too perfect.

Finally the night drew to a close, the band began winding down and as Anna rested against Steve’s chest, each swaying lightly to the music, no longer going through the steps of the dance, someone approached them.

“Well imagine seeing you here Adrianna Conti!”

She glanced up and gasped, “Catrin!” She threw her arms around the slender woman who had come up to them and Steve stiffened slightly. He sort of recognized the girl from the theatre and judging by the women’s chatter he knew he was right.

Anna dragged the slender dancer over to where Steve stood uncertainly on the dance-floor edge and quickly introduced the young woman to her date. Catrin’s eyes were wide as she took in Steve Rogers and the first thing that popped out of her mouth, causing him to blush and Anna to roll her eyes, “Damn son! You’re built like a G.I. Joe doll! What do you do? Eat 18 eggs a day and lift cars?”

Steve cleared his throat, offered her his hand and said quietly, “No ma’am. I just have a fast metabolism.”

Catrin laughed and took a sip of her cocktail. Then, as the band called for some last requests, a mischievous glow lit her eyes and she excused herself saying, “My boyfriend is the trumpet. I have a request for him. I’ll be right back you love-birds.”

And then she was gone, weaving her way through the dancing crowd towards the stage where the band played another rambunctious jazz number. Anna frowned, watching her friend sway up to the stage and she muttered, “What is she doing? I know that look…”

Steve chuckled and swept her into his arms, saying, “She seems like an interesting dame.”

Anna nodded, a small frown still wrinkling her brow as she worried about what her friend was doing whispering to her boyfriend. “Uh-oh,” she murmured as the man made his way to the switchback microphone, similar to the one she crooned into every night. “Steve, we should go.”

He frowned, glanced at the stage and watched as the trumpet player, the boyfriend of Anna’s coworker made his way to the microphone and lead singer and he gasped. “They wouldn’t!” he exclaimed as the song drew to an end.

“They would,” she whispered as the lead singer thanked the band and then turned sparkling eyes out to the clapping audience. “They will,” she finished weakly as the singer spoke.

“Hey! So, this is our last number and we’ve decided to go out with a slow one. But, there’s something new about this ladies and gents! Can you part the seas for a moment so our next guest can make her way up to the stage?”

The crowds shuffled around and Anna briefly considered running away; Steve would surely help her, judging by the cold light of his eyes and the calculating glances he shot around the venue.

But then the singer called her name and Catrin was grabbing her by the arm and dragging her up to the stage while the leader of the band introduced her. She’d lost her chance at escape.

“Seems Brooklyn’s very own Nightingale, usually found within the opulent Alcott several blocks away, seriously people, check the place out! It’s a small bit of history. Anyway, their Nightingale is here tonight, enjoying a night off with her beau and she’s agreed to sing a goodnight song for us!”

Cheers erupted as Anna was hauled onto the stage, protesting all the while. The band gathered around her introducing themselves too quickly for her to respond and their excitement at having a woman on their stage was astounding. Anna sighed in resignation, shot a furious glare to Catrin and a sheepish little grin to a worried Steve before turning to the leader of the band, a Mike Templeton, and saying, “Okay, one song fellas. You have to know “Our Love is Here to Stay,” right?”

All of the men nodded and agreed and she sighed in relief. It was the perfect song for tonight. Absolutely perfect.

Turning to the mike with a small smile on her face her hands rose to grasp the stand and the head of the mike in her habitual stance. She didn’t see Steve shudder in response to the sight of her delicate fingers resting on the equipment.

“Hello,” she said softly, her Nightingale persona slipping into place and she smiled knowingly as the audience cheered. “What a beautiful night! All right, so as Mike said, one song left. It’s a soft one, slow and gentle. So take the person you love in your arms and cradle them.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the band, who were all staring at her in anticipation; she hesitated and then nodded.

The opening chords slid off the piano and Anna bowed her head over the mike as she began to croon,

_It's very clear, our love is here to stay_   
_Not for a year but ever and a day_   
_The radio and the telephone and the movies that we know_   
_May just be passing fancies and in time may go_

As she finished the first verse she paused and glanced up, meeting the shadowed gaze of Steve Rogers. She smiled gently, her eyelid lowering in a slow wink. Steve smiled in response, a secretive lift of his lips that made her blood burn. She sashayed her hips, the soft silk of her dress drifting around her legs like a cloud as she continued her ballad.

_But oh, my dear, our love is here to stay_   
_Together we're going a long, long way_   
_In time the Rockies may crumble, Gibraltar may tumble_   
_They're only made of clay_   
_But our love is here to stay_

_The radio and the telephone and the movies that we know_   
_May just be passing fancies and in time may go_   
_Oh, my dear, our love is here to stay_   
_Together we're going a long, long way_   
_In time the Rockies may crumble, Gibraltar may tumble_   
_They're only made of clay_   
_Oh, but our love is here_   
_Our love is here_   
_But our love is here to stay_   
_To stay_

As the song faded away the room was silent; everywhere, couples swayed together even though the music had ended and Anna made her escape off of the stage quickly before she got dragged into another song. She didn’t see Steve anymore but she didn’t pause to look for him. She ran for the exit and the street and as she burst onto the street, applause erupted in the pub behind her and she started to laugh.

“That was beautiful Anna.”

She turned to see Steve exiting the pub, her jacket draped over his arm. Soft wonder filled his eyes and she felt her knees tremble in response.

“Thanks,” she murmured as he approached her. “I’m sorry Steve, I hope you don’t think I messed up your date. I should have refused-“

Suddenly, impossibly, he kissed her, stopping her words.

And it was the single most amazing kiss she had ever had in her life.

For Anna, it was further proof that Steve Rogers was the perfect man.

For Steve, it was stunning and as he pulled her into his arms, he realized he’d found the right partner for this new dance of his.


	11. Undercard #1

One Week Later…

Anna knew something was wrong Monday morning when she came home from her night shift and Roberto wasn’t up and the Duke wasn’t blaring from the speakers in the living room. He wasn’t in the kitchen, nor was he sprawled on the couch watching early morning History Channel. Roberto wasn’t up. The apartment was eerily quiet. Far too quiet.

“’Berto?” she called softly. There was no response. Anna’s skin prickled as she ran through the front hallway towards Roberto’s room dropping her coat and her purse without thought. “Roberto!” she gasped as she slid through his door and tripped over a pile of dirty laundry. “Roberto!”

Her brother was curled up in his bed, the blankets thrown off of his shaking figure and from where she stood she could see the sheen of sweat on skin. “Roberto,” she groaned as she fell to her knees at his bedside. “Oh no.”

The fever rolled off of him; she could feel the heat of his skin from where she knelt. The moment her hand settled on his forehead, her fingers running through his sweaty hair, his eyes snapped open. They were vague, glassy with fever, and she shivered at the lack of recognition in his gaze.

“Steve,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Steve don’t leave us.

Anna’s heart wrenched at the plaintive note in his voice and she ran her fingers once more through his hair. “Roberto? It’s me Anna. Steve’s not here-“

She got no further. Roberto started to cry, panic making his body thrash. “Steve! Steve the monsters are going to hurt you!” he screamed his eyes wide and his fingers locking in her shirt, dragging her closer. She shuddered at the smell of sickness on him and she knew, knew she would have to get him to a doctor and soon.

“Roberto, baby, just hold on, all right? I’m going to call the doctor okay. Just lie still,” she said, her voice slightly panicked.

She stood, pulled her brother’s blankets over him, some maternal part of her remembering her mother telling her the best way to get rid of a fever was to sweat it out. Roberto huddled under the blankets, shivering all the while and he whimpered, Steve’s name occasionally slipping from chapped lips.

Anna’s hands rose to her mouth for a moment and she shuddered; she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t have a car, didn’t have an easy way to transport her brother. What should she do-

Roberto sat up at that point and shrieked, “Steve!” and she knew in that moment what she had to do.

She scrambled out of his room, cursing as she tripped over Roberto’s laundry and smashed her shoulder into the doorframe, bruising the bone, but this didn’t stop her. Her ears rang with the sound of her brother’s panic and as she slid to her knees to stop beside her abandoned jacket she hoped Steve wouldn’t think she was using him.

A moment later she had her cell in her hand and she was digging through her contacts for the one number she hoped she’d be able to find Steve Rogers at.

“I need to get that man a phone,” she muttered as the phone on the other end rang. After a few, right when she’d given up and decided to see if Anita was awake yet, someone picked up.

“What. What do you need at this ungodly hour?! I just opened the damned office. Who is this?”

The cantankerous voice almost made Anna smile. Almost. But then Roberto groaned and she blurted, “I need Steve Rogers. Please tell me he’s there!”

“What?! Do I look like a cell phone to you? I don’t need to field-“

“Big Joe,” she gasped as she scrambled down the hallway to stand in her little brother’s doorway. Her eyes widened as she watched him thrash under the blankets and cold fear began to overwhelm her. “Joe, I need Steve,” she whispered, tears starting to prick her eyes. “Please. Please tell me he’s there.”

There was a pause and then, “This is Adrianna isn’t it? The girl our boy’s stepping out with.” There was another pause, in which Anna tried to confirm it was indeed her but her words failed her. Big Joe sighed and she heard him set the phone down and bellow from a distance away, “Rogers! Phone!”

Her heart surged at that and she felt warm relief fill her as she heard Steve’s quiet voice asking Joe what was going on.

“That dame you’re seeing, she’s in a panic on the phone. Better see what’s up Cap.”

There was a rustle as her Captain picked up the phone and she nearly sobbed at the sound of him saying her name. “Anna? Is everything okay?”

“Steve!” she gasped, relief and fear making her sound hysterical. “Steve it’s ‘Berto! He’s sick. Very sick and I need to get him to the hospital but I don’t have a car and Anita’s at work and he’s asking for you. He keeps saying your name. Please, tell me you can come. I…I can’t do this on my own.” Her voice cracked on this last and her body sagged bonelessly to the ground beside her brother.

There was silence on the other end and then Steve said, “I’m coming right now. Keep him calm. I’ll be there in five minutes.” He paused and Anna really started to cry then. “Don’t worry Anna, we’ll fix him up.”

She held her phone to her ear for a long moment, even after Steve had hung up, his words spinning through her mind. Don’t worry Anna, we’ll fix him up.

We. As in, together. Like a family.

“Oh God,” she whispered.

The next five minutes were some of the longest she’d ever experienced. A small part of her wondered how Steve could possibly expect to get through Brooklyn in such a short span of time but if she was being honest with herself she couldn’t doubt him. Her mysterious Captain always gave off the air of someone capable of superhero feats. Which of course involved impossible travel times in New York City.

Anna stayed by Roberto’s side. She had gone to the bathroom the moment she hung up the phone to grab some washcloths and a bowl of cold water. She needed to cool this fever as much as possible.

She was in the process of wringing out a cloth to reapply to her brother’s forehead when she heard Steve come into the room.

“Anna?” His voice was soft, calm and collected and almost immediately some of her panic faded away. Steve was here. He’d help her.

“Hi,” she said, her voice only a little shaky. “I’m so sorry about this Steve,” she continued as he came into her brother’s room. His cool blue eyes took stock of the situation.

He noted immediately the dark shadows of exhaustion under Anna’s eyes, the slight tremble of her hands and the sheer panic in every line of her body. He knew, immediately, that she was barely managing to keep herself calm.

He smiled as he made his way to the bed and she sighed as he knelt beside her and tucked that troublesome curl behind her ear. Then he turned his eyes to Roberto and he frowned. “We need to get him to a hospital Anna,” he said quietly. She nodded and swallowed heavily, her throat clicking as she tried to keep from crying. Steve squeezed her shoulder gently and then gathered Roberto, blankets and all, into his arms. She opened her mouth to protest but seeing the ease at which he held her 13 year old brother, she didn’t say anything.

She knew Steve was strong. Impossibly strong. She didn’t ask why.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she herself stood; the room spun sickeningly and she swayed. He caught her gently, balancing Roberto easily in one arm as he steadied Anna.

“When was the last time you slept?” he asked as they made their way through the apartment, Anna only pausing a moment to grab her jacket and purse.

She hesitated, a small frown wrinkling her brow and then she shook her head. “I don’t know. I guess yesterday morning I got about 4 hours of sleep before work.”

Steve shook his head and waited for her to open the apartment door. “You need to get some rest.”

“Like hell,” she snapped as she followed him down the several flights of stairs towards the front lobby. “I can’t sleep now.”

Steve didn’t push her. He knew she wouldn’t rest until Roberto was better.

The ride to the hospital was quiet, the only sound Roberto’s restless tossing and the rustle of Anna’s jacket zipper as she fiddled nervously with the pull. She would glance every few minutes into the backseat of Steve’s silver Mercedes, her eyes darkening with terror as she watched her brother shake.

“What do I do?” she whispered as they neared Brooklyn Medical Park. “He’s never been sick like this before. I don’t know how to deal with this Steve.”

He glanced at her, his blue eyes concerned at the sound of her panic and he stretched out a hand to take a hold of hers. “It will be fine,” he murmured reassuringly. “You’re doing the right thing. The doctor’s will know what to do. Don’t worry.”

Anna worried. She worried through Steve carrying Roberto into the ER. She worried through mounds of paperwork. She worried through an hour long wait in the hospital waiting room. She worried through calls to the Pearl and to the Alcott. She worried when Steve finally forced her to sit. Her foot jiggled up and down as she flicked her gaze from her brother cradled in Steve’s arms to the army of nurses flocked behind the nurse’s station. Steve smiled to himself as he sensed her frustration but he didn’t say anything.

Finally the doctor came and the three of them were admitted; Anna almost clawed the older man’s eyes out when he grumbled about being late for his lunch break. The only thing that saved the geezer’s watery gaze was Steve’s calm touch on her arm. His blue eyes were as still as a pool of water and as she met his gaze she felt herself relax.

She almost panicked though when Roberto was taken away from her to have tests run. The doctor was unsure if this was a flu or something else and seeing the older sister’s panic he decided it would be best to run as many tests as he could, just to be safe. His survival instincts had twitched the moment this tiny family had arrived in his room. He knew the woman was on the verge of a panic attack.

Steve and Anna were sent back to the waiting room; the doctor told them they would be giving Roberto fluids to help combat the fever and that it may take a while for them to figure out what was wrong. The two of them should relax, get some breakfast, have a cigarette. They’d get Roberto patched up as soon as possible.

Steve watched her pace for the first half an hour; he leaned back in his chair, his arms folded over his broad chest and he waited. He could see the exhaustion clinging to her, could sense the weariness in every line of her body. He knew, headstrong dame she may be, that her collapse was inevitable.

Sure enough mid stride she stumbled and he could see her knees buckle. In one smooth movement he caught her to him and cradled her against his chest. “Oh Anna,” he sighed as he settled with her slender form folded against him into one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. “You’re so stubborn.”

Her sleepy chuckle made him smile and she snuggled against him, her fingers twisting into the white t-shirt he wore. “Sorry you have to sit here with me in this boring hospital.”

His deep chuckle made his chest vibrate under her ear and she shivered. “It’s not a problem Anna. I’m just glad I can help.” He stroked his fingers through her hair, his touch burning as the silken curls and waves tumbled from his grasp and she sighed deeply.

“He kept saying your name, Steve. He was crying for you. I didn’t know what to do,” she murmured as she watched her fingers run over his chest, bumping gently against the heavy musculature barely hidden by the white cotton shirt he wore. “He didn’t even recognize me, just kept screaming for you.”

Steve shivered, both from her words and from her touch. “Why was he asking for me?” he murmured as he shifted her carefully. “Why wasn’t he asking for you?”

She shook her head, her curls rustling against his nose, almost making him sneeze. “I don’t know. But he was afraid for you; he kept saying something about monsters, about them hurting you. He was terrified. I don’t think I want to know what he was dreaming.”

Steve frowned as unease tightened his chest; he wondered what the kid had dreamt if it had scared him enough to call for his boxing coach. Steve had seen enough in his very long life to not pass over the kid’s concerns. He decided the moment Roberto was on the mend he’d ask the kid if he remembered anything from his fever dreams.

He jumped when a soft snore issued from Anna’s lips and he laughed softly as she settled against him. Her dead weight barely troubled him as he shifted her into a more comfortable position. He didn’t notice the nurses in their station watching him with appreciation in their eyes. He didn’t notice the curious doctor’s or the concerned patients. The only thing Steve Rogers paid attention to was the woman in his arms and the waiting room door that led to the main hospital. Roberto was in there, feverish, sick. Was he still calling for Steve? Was he still dreaming of monsters?

Steve hoped not.

The morning dragged on and Anna slept. Finally, as noon approached, Steve felt his own eyes start to drift closed. He didn’t fight his own exhaustion. He needed sleep as much as Anna. He wouldn’t fight it.

His eyes finally fluttered closed and soon he himself was sleeping.

Neither he nor Anna noticed the nurse approach. They didn’t notice her slipping a blanket over their bodies.

They were too deeply asleep.

________________________________________

“It’s Strep throat I’m afraid Miss Conti. A highly progressed case. Did he mention any discomfort to you prior to this morning?”

Anna, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, shook her head and pulled her gaze away from her peacefully sleeping brother to meet Dr. Patrice’s watery eyes. “No,” she whispered hoarsely. “No, I don’t think so. I-I haven’t been home a lot the past couple of days though. Work…” she trailed off and shuddered. She wished Steve were in the hospital room with her.

The doctor watched his patient’s older sister carefully; like Steve he noted the dark shadows under her eyes, the paleness of her cheeks and the slight tremble of her hands. Sighing, he pulled a scrip pad closer out of his lab coat and he scribbled some notes on the white paper.

“Your brother will be fine Miss Conti. There’s no harm done. These things do happen and Strep has been going around. I’ve had several cases this week alone. Give him a few days and he’ll be right as rain. Here is the prescription. Follow the directions for the medications and you’ll be all set.” He paused and placed a hand on her shoulder before saying, “And get some rest. I don’t want to see you in my office as well. You won’t help him running yourself ragged.”

Anna watched him leave the room and she heaved a sigh as she slid the prescription into her jeans pocket; turning back to Roberto she didn’t notice the door opening again and Steve entering the room.

She jumped when he came up behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Everything all right?” he asked quietly.

She nodded and cleared her throat. “Yeah,” she said wearily, her head resting on his shoulder. “Just Strep. He’s going to be fine. We can take him home tonight.” She sighed and Steve’s grip tightened as he felt her slender body shudder against his.

“Okay,” he said as he pulled away from her and made his way towards the bed. “Let’s get him home then!”

She smiled, her lips trembling slightly as warm relief filled her at the sight of him tenderly lifting her brother into his arms. “Thank you Steve,” she whispered.

“No problem,” he murmured with a shy smile as he made his way towards the door.

She gathered her purse and jacket up and followed him from the room, her legs only slightly shaky. She hurried to catch up with Steve and her brother and as they signed Roberto out and made their way through the hospital towards the front parking lot she plucked up her courage to ask, “Would you mind staying over tonight, Steve?” He glanced at her as he eased Roberto’s limp body into the backseat of his borrowed car and nodded when he saw how nervous she was.

“Sure Anna, it would be my pleasure,” he said as he straightened.

She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “Thanks,” she said, relief coloring her tone. “I’d feel better having someone else with me and you’re…” she trailed off, her eyes darting away from his as she came dangerously close to revealing how much she trusted him

Steve took a step towards her and his hand rose to stroke her cheek. “It’s no problem Anna,” he murmured as she finally raised her eyes to his. “You and Roberto…well, you’re very special to me. I don’t mind helping either of you.”

She hesitated, his hand still resting against her cheeks, and then she raised herself on tiptoes to plant a tender kiss against his lips.

“Thank you Captain Rogers,” she murmured against his mouth, her dark eyes smoldering in the streetlights of the hospital parking lot.

Before he could react a gagging sound came from the car behind them and they turned as Roberto groaned, “Get a room you two. Urgh. You’re worse than a romantic comedy on Lifetime.”

His dark eyes sparkled mischievously even though he was slumped limply against the rear seat of the sedan and his cheeks were still pale.

Anna had to admit though as she leaned into the car to plant a kiss on his head that he looked much better than he had 14 hours ago.

“Shut up, nerd,” she muttered as she straightened, a small smile on her lips.

Roberto only snorted and patted her hand weakly. “You’re a freak,” he grumbled. She only rolled her eyes and slammed the door closed.

He fell asleep halfway home and the two adults tried to keep their eyes from each other. But somewhere between the hospital and the Conti’s apartments Steve found he was holding Anna’s hand gently, his thumb running burning patterns over her skin and her head was resting gently against his shoulder, her soft, even breath the only sign that she slept.

He carried each of them, one by one, up to the apartment, barely breaking a sweat despite the several flights of stairs. He tucked them each into their beds and then settled onto the couch to keep watch.

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep. It was very late.

When he woke, dawn had just broken and the first thing he noticed was that he was very warm and something soft, yet firm was cradled in his arms. His eyes fluttered open, then widened as he realized Anna was curled up against him, her hand resting against his cheek and her legs tangled with his own.

He didn’t move, simply relaxed back into the plush cushions of the couch and a small smile lifted his lips as he tucked Anna more firmly under his chin and she murmured in her sleep.

He realized, as he was falling asleep once more, that he loved this. Loved holding her in his arms. Loved the feel of her body pressed against his own.

It was so right.

So perfect.

________________________________________

Friday Afternoon  
April 10th, 2012

“Please tell me you’re coming to Birdy’s birthday party tonight Anna! It won’t be the same if you can’t come.”

Anna sighed and shifted the kitchen phone to her other ear. Aisha and the rest of the girls had called her for the past three days asking to make sure she was still coming for Birdy’s night. Frankly, she was getting sick of it.

There were times, being the oldest employee raising a kid on her own, that she got tired of the silliness of the other girls.

“Yeah Aisha, I’m coming. Catrin just called me 20 minutes ago,” she said with a sigh. A small smile flashed across her lips as she heard Roberto and Steve in the other room arguing about whose armies owned Russia.

They’d gotten Risk out again.

“Oh, okay babe. How’s Robbie doing?”

Anna snorted and poked her head around the doorway so she could see into the living room. “He’s fine. He’s not contagious anymore thank God but Steve and I thought it would be a good idea to keep him home for the rest of the week. There’s no sense in pushing him too hard.” She pinched her nose as she sagged into one of the kitchen chairs and she almost didn’t notice the unusual silence on the other end of the line.

“You and Steve huh? So…when’s the wedding?” Aisha’s voice was smug and Anna realized she and the other girls had begun to notice Steve Rogers’ presence in her life.

Lovely, she grumbled to herself as she fiddled with the phone cord and tried to not think of being swarmed by all of the girls the next time she came into work.

“Yeah, Steve and I,” she said stiffly. “When Roberto got sick on Monday I called Steve because I’ve never had to deal with something like this before. He drove us to the hospital and stayed with me all night while the doctor’s fixed ‘Berto up. He helped me a lot.”

“Mm-hmm. Whatever you say cookie. That’s the guy who’s been picking you up every night for the past couple of weeks too, huh? The one with the shoulders like a Greek god and the motorcycle Nicolas Cage rode in that God-awful movie, right? Nice catch there babe.”

Aisha chuckled and Anna rolled her eyes. The girl’s talked for a bit more, Aisha providing some gossip on the theater and Anna discussing her numbers for the evening so the other girl could get them to the stage manager.

Anna didn’t pay much attention though. Her mind kept drifting to the man currently sprawled in her living room across from her brother. When had Steve become such a pivotal part of her life? Was it the moment he and Roberto had befriended each other? Or that first dinner when she’d noticed how haunted and broken he’d looked? Or was it the night’s they’d spent curled up around each other?  
She’d woken every morning this week resting against Steve, either cradled in his arms or with her head on his shoulder.

Somehow she’d gotten from her room to the living room with neither of them remembering how.

Neither mentioned it in the mornings when they finally stirred.

It was the best sleep they had gotten though.

As she hung up the phone after once more assuring Aisha that she would be at the Alcott that evening at 7:30, she realized she loved having this man in her life.

His quiet presence was soothing and after this past week she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

She made her way to the living room and paused in the doorway, her dark eyes sparkling as she watched Roberto slowly trounce Steve’s armies; Steve was so patient with her brother, so kind. He loved kids, she’d noticed. Loved playing with them and loved talking to them.

He would make a great father…

She jumped at that errant thought and ducked out of the doorway before making her way to her bedroom. Her hands shook as she raised them to her lips and her mind lurched as she recalled the conversation they’d had Tuesday night on the roof of her building.

_“Roberto is sleeping,” she said as she made her way across the roof towards where Steve leant against the low wall of her building._

_He glanced at her over his shoulder, his eyes shadowed and he nodded. “That’s good,” he said quietly. “He needs to rest.”_

_Anna stood beside him, her hands shoved into the silk lined pockets of her jacket. The earthy smell of the leather calmed her and she realized that no matter how this unusual relationship worked out, the smell of leather would always remind her of Captain Steve Rogers._

_“Thank you for helping me the past couple of days Steve,” she murmured. “I don’t think I could have done any of this without you.”_

_The sound of him turning towards her in the gloaming made her heart flutter and suddenly he was there, his broad chest blocking the chilly wind whipping across the roof and his fingers stroking her hair._

_“You’re welcome Anna,” he said, his voice low and soft. “I’m just glad I could help.”_

_She nodded and turned her gaze back to the city below them. They were quiet for a few minutes, just enjoying each other’s presence and then Anna blurted, “Do you have kids Steve?”_

_The moment the words slipped from her lips she closed her eyes and swore softly to herself. She’d sworn, when she’d started dating Steve Rogers that she wouldn’t push him. If he wanted to tell her about his past then she would let him but she wouldn’t try to get him to tell her._

_It wasn’t fair to him._

_So why the sudden questioning? Why did she want to know about his past tonight of all nights?_

_She knew why. Because she’d seen his eyes when Roberto had gotten sick; she’d seen the worry there, and the terrifying knowledge of someone who had lost a loved one unexpectedly. She’d also seen his unease every time the nurses or doctors had assumed the two of them were together in some way._

_She’d realized, Monday afternoon, that Steve wasn’t sure he wanted to be together with her._

_Steve was staring at her, his blue eyes glowing from the security light behind them; she blushed as the silence grew and struggled to find an excuse or a different subject._

_She couldn’t though. She wanted answers._

_Even half-an-answer at this point would be better than the constant wondering._

_Just when she thought he’d never answer, he did, his voice careful, slow and she was struck once more by the suspicion that Steve Rogers was hiding something from her._

_But why?_

_“I don’t have kids Anna. I’ve spent most of my life in the Army or at school. I never had time for kids.”_

_He turned away from her and before she could stop herself she asked another personal question, “Have you ever been married?”_

_She’d seen the shadows in his eyes when she sang certain songs and she’d always wondered if it was because of a girl._

_Her hackles went up at the thought of some stupid bitch hurting Steve. She almost missed him saying, “No, I’ve never been married. There was a…da-girl when I was in the Army whom I thought may be the one. But then…well…then things happened.”_  
 _Anna, curious despite the obvious discomfort she was putting him through, sidled closer to him and asked, “Did you love her?”_

_Steve glanced at her and she wished she could see his expression, to judge how much she was pushing him but he answered after a moment, his voice soft, calm and not the least bit discomfited, “I thought I did, long ago. But war does things to you and now I wonder…”_

_She shivered as his voice trailed away and she once more wondered about his choice of words. She’d noticed that Steve Rogers occasionally spoke like someone who’d lived for many decades, not just a couple. She’d wondered, but had never asked._

_“Wonder what?” she asked quietly, her blood going cold in her veins as she tried to gather her courage. Was he going to tell her he was leaving? Was he going to tell her that girl in the Army was his soul mate? Was this it-_

_She gasped as his hands suddenly cradled her face and his lips burned against her own._

_Steve was kissing her._

_Kissing…her…_

_“Now I’m wondering if the right partner for this new life of mine is standing on this windy roof with me,” he whispered against the hollow of her ear._

_Anna shivered at his words and his touch and felt her knees start to shake._

_“The…right…partner?” she gasped as his hands smoothed down her back._

_The right partner._

_The sound of the roof door slamming behind her echoed down the stairwell but she didn't notice.  All she could focus on was Steve's words._

_The right partner._

_Her._

She jerked back to the present at the sound of footsteps in her doorway and she pasted a happy smile on her face before turning to see Steve in her doorway.

“Anna?” he asked, his voice concerned and his eyes shadowed.

She’d brought the shadows back, she realized. Her running away from him Tuesday night had probably been the worst thing she could have done to him.

But how was she supposed to respond to that sudden declaration of…feelings?

She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, her eyes closing against the onslaught of guilt and worry she felt about the man currently leaning in her bedroom door. How was she going to fix this?

“Anna, what’s wrong?” he asked and she shivered as she felt the air move as he made his way towards where she stood having an existential crisis in the middle of her bedroom. “Who was on the phone?”

He didn’t touch her, but she could feel him, even with her eyes closed. He made the air burn around her, his scent overwhelmed her and she longed to run her hands over his chest and her lips along his strong jawline.

Her eyes snapped open and she asked, her voice harsh with frustrated desire, “Steve, would you want to be my date for a birthday party tonight?”

He frowned, his mind spinning at the sudden change of subject and asked, “Birthday party?”

She nodded and backed a few steps away from him so the back of her knees connected with the edge of her bed. “Yeah, it’s something we do for Birdy every year. The Alcott is closed to the public, only a few select patrons come, so it’s a very quiet, personal affair. Some of our employees put on a show, there’s cake, lots of booze and just some quiet reminiscing about the year past. It’s a lot of fun actually, kind of the highlight of our year and Birdy always pretends she doesn’t know it’s going to happen. Please say you’ll come.”

He hesitated, his blue eyes intent as he watched her nervously twist a curl of hair around her finger. He’d noticed she did this when she was uneasy. “I’ll come but what about Roberto?” he asked quietly.

Before she could respond, a voice croaked, “Can I come Anna? I come every year. I don’t want to miss it!”

Both adults turned to see Roberto, wrapped in his favorite blanket, standing in the bedroom doorway in sweats and slippers. Anna stared at him for a moment and then snorted, “You just want to see Catrin do her belly dance don’t you? I should have known…” She shook her head mournfully, her sparkling eyes the only sign that she was teasing him.

His chuckle served to ease the adults standing before him and he folded his arms as he said, “So, can I come tonight?”

She hesitated, glanced from her brother to Steve, who shrugged, and said, “Well, how about you rest for today and then we’ll see how you feel tonight. Deal?”

He nodded. “Deal,” he said.

Anna watched both her brother and Steve leave and then she sagged to the bed.

How was she going to fix things with Steve? How was she going to let him know that she did indeed want to be his partner in his so-called new life? How could she tell him that he meant more to her than an over glorified babysitter?

Her eyes drifted around the room and then rested on some sheet music she had set aside the night before after deciding it was too mellow for a night at the Alcott.

It was the song.

Their song.

It was perfect.

A small smile darted across her lips as she bent to pick the sheet music up and she knew, knew that this was right. The perfect song.

For the perfect man.

Without a second thought she called her accompanist and told him about the set change. Suddenly she couldn’t wait for the party. She couldn’t wait to sing for Steve Rogers.


	12. Undercard #2

Anna froze in the doorway of the living room Friday night and snapped, “What the hell are you two doing?”

Roberto, his fists frozen against Steve’s open palms glanced at his sister and blushed, before saying, “I haven’t been to the gym all week Anna! I didn’t want to get rusty. Steve’s showing me a new move. Want to see?”

She folded her arms and glared from one to the other; Steve’s gaze was even, calm, the only sign that he was amused, the small uplift of his lips and the bright sparkle of his eyes. Roberto was jiggling up and down on the balls of his feet, his fists still resting against Steve’s.

She could tell right away that he was feeling better.

Rolling her eyes, she lowered her arms and came into the living room. They’d shoved the furniture out of the way to leave the center of the room clear so she perched on the windowsill.

“Well?” she said with a soft laugh and a wave of her hand. “Show me what you’ve got Rocky.”

Roberto laughed, both at the nickname and the confused look on Steve’s face and backed up a couple steps so he could show her the move start from finish.

“This is called an ‘uppercut,’” he explained as he got inside of Steve’s guard and executed a sharp upward jab, which would connect with Steve’s chin if they were truly boxing. “Because I’m much shorter than Steve I have to use infighter moves so I can get inside his guard and do quick body shots. It’s dangerous, but it’s effective.”

Steve glanced at Anna as he corrected the kid’s stance and showed him once more the steps and jabs needed to execute a correct uppercut. Her eyes were dark, worried, but also interested. He couldn’t tell if she was still angry with him or simply annoyed that Roberto wasn’t resting.

As the kid practiced the uppercut once more Steve opened his mouth to correct his foot placement but Anna beat him to it. “Your right foot is sliding forward too fast ‘Berto. That’s why you’re uneven when you go to strike Steve’s chin.

Two pairs of eyes, one as dark as her own, the other as blue as an icy ocean, turned in her direction and she shrugged a slender shoulder. “Poppy taught me a few moves when I was younger,” she explained as she slid off of the windowsill to stand in front of Steve. “I used to be pretty good too.”

Her small smile made him shiver and he swallowed heavily before saying, “You don’t want to ruin your dress Anna.” He lowered his hands and took a step back from her. She snorted and raised her fists, her feet shifting into a habitual boxer’s stance she hadn’t filled since she was 15.

“You’re just afraid you might get your ass handed to you by a girl in heels and an LBD,” she said with a sly smile.

He glanced up and down her slender body, taking in the soft black dress drifting around her knees, the bright blue court shoes and the soft waves of her hair. She was beautiful tonight. Especially with the challenging light in her eyes.

He glanced at Roberto who was sitting on the couch, a knowing smirk on his lips, and he sighed as he turned back to Anna. “Well, I won’t teach you anything until you correct your defensive stance,” he murmured as he approached her. His hands rested on her wrists gently and he lifted each so they were closer to her nose and jaw. He pretended to ignore her shiver at his touch; he himself could barely resist the feel of her skin on his.

He circled her slowly, taking in the distance of her feet and the bend of her knees. Suddenly, all he wanted to do was to touch her, to feel her body respond to his. He knew then what he had to do.

“Very good,” he murmured against her ear. His hands rose to cup her elbows and she truly did shudder then as his hands smoothed upwards from elbow to wrist. “Right, so an uppercut is a quick succession of jabs like Roberto said,” he said, his voice husky as his chest rested against her back. “You want to keep yourself small and tight, as unobtrusive as a fly against an elephant. Take one step forward,” he murmured as his right hand smoothed from her wrist to her hip. She shivered at his burning touch and took a small step forward, her left wrist moving at his beck into a quick jab as her foot settled in the plush carpet of her living room.

“Okay,” she breathed as his musky scent overwhelmed her. Her lined and mascaraed eyelids fluttered closed as his hand gripped her hip lightly through the thin silk of her dress. “What now?”

“You’re inside of his guard now; you’ve laid him bare,” he murmured, his lips resting at the shell of her ear. “There’s nothing he can do against your skill, so you should go in for the kill. Dazzle him, Anna, you’ll have him on his knees in a matter of seconds.”

They were frozen, his body curved around hers and her hand and waist captives to his touch.

“Steve,” she whispered, her eyes vague as hot desire rushed through her. What had he meant? Had he been talking in a literal sense? Or was he talking about himself? Did she really dazzle him?

“Steve, we have to go to the Alcott. We don’t want to be late.”

His hands fell from her slowly and she staggered as the feel of his warm body left hers. She gasped and tried to regain some small amount of her composure. She didn’t notice the smug smile on her brother’s lips or Steve running his hand through his hair.

She didn’t really have the mental ability to notice much other than the burn of her skin from his touch and the roiling desire gripping her.

Straightening, she smoothed her expression into something she hoped resembled her usual calm smile and she said with a chuckle, “Maybe I should come to the gym sometime and get some of those lessons ‘Berto’s been taking.”

She winked at her little brother as she left the living room, who groaned and whispered to Steve as they pulled on their coats, “You don’t think she will, do you? Isn’t the gym a guy’s only establishment?”

Steve only shook his head. He didn’t trust himself to speak right now. His eyes followed Anna as she moved around the apartment gathering her jacket, purse and folder of sheet music. Memories of her body pressed against his and the fragile bones of her wrists turning in his grasp bombarded him and he almost groaned as white-hot desire gripped him.

Anna glanced at him, a small smile on her lips and her eyelid lowered in a slow wink.

“How you doing over there, coach?” she asked with a soft chuckle.

“Fine,” he muttered as he zipped up his jacket. “I think I’m a K.O. for the night though.”

Her soft laugh made his hair stand on end and he sighed as they left the apartment.

Tonight was going to be a long night.

________________________________________

The Alcott’s front sign was dark when the pulled up to the theater. Steve gripped the steering wheel of his SHIELD issued Mercedes tightly as he gazed at the dark bulbs and thought of the first time he’d seen the place. It was odd to think about how pivotal that day had been for him.

And to think, if it hadn’t rained, if he hadn’t been that angry, saddened man, he may not be here at this very moment. He may never have met Roberto in a dark alley, may never have heard Anna croon into a mike, may never have danced with her at Bailey’s.

He shivered. He’d been awake for 2 months. In 2 months the ice had finally melted from his heart and he’d allowed himself to love again. Despite everything…despite all that SHIELD wanted him to become.

Anna and Roberto had changed him.

For the better.

“Steve?”

He glanced in the rear view mirror and met Roberto’s worried gaze. “Sorry kid,” he said as he switched off the car’s ignition and unlocked the door. “Got lost in my thoughts.”

Anna’s soft chuckle made him smile and she murmured as she unclipped the seatbelt, “Having a senior moment, coach?”

He almost quipped that he was a senior citizen after all, but that would have been a little too close to the truth for him. Instead he only nodded and stretched his fingers out to stroke the back of her hand. Anna met his gaze but neither said anything.

As one, the three of them exited the car and made their way to the front door where the doorman and bouncer Merle Maxwell stood waiting for them. Anna and the guard exchanged pleasantries as he took hers and Roberto’s coats. He only glared at Steve who chuckled and shook his head as he handed his coat over.

Some things would never change.

“All right boys,” Anna murmured as they entered the theater. “I have to go to the back and help the girls. But I’ll be back later.” She ruffled Roberto’s hair and smiled gently at Steve. “If you don’t feel well ‘Berto, just let Steve know. He’ll get me and we’ll make our escape, okay? None of the girls will mind.”

Roberto nodded and raised his fist for her to bump. “Break a leg sis!” he called as she hurried up onto the stage and through the curtains. They barely made out her wave in the dim light of the theater.

Steve hesitated as Roberto made a beeline for the bar and then he sighed and followed the kid. The bartender smiled at him as he pulled up a stool next to Roberto and said, “Hey Captain Rogers. Good to see you! How’s tricks?”

Steve exchanged pleasantries as the bartender, a young man named Scott, pushed a Shirley Temple in front of Roberto. “Tricks are good Scott. How’s the Alcott been? I see it’s still standing despite all of the girl’s worries that Anna’s absence this week might mean the end of the world.”

Scott snorted and passed a gin & tonic over to the retired Captain. He, like everyone in the theater liked Rogers, liked the tender care he took with Anna and her brother. Scott suspected if Birdy didn’t trust the man, he wouldn’t have had much of a chance with their Nightingale.

“The place is booming just as much as it usually is. The crowds have been bummed about Anna’s absence but Birdy took the opportunity to train up some of the new chorus girls. They’re not as good as the Nightingale of course but they’re not as headstrong as our girl. It’s been strictly Sinatra and Ellington numbers this week.” Scott chuckled as he poured himself a shot of tequila and Steve smiled as the bartender clinked glasses with first Roberto and then himself before tossing the shot back.

Suddenly the lights snapped on and all three turned to see the accompanist, Mike Howell, step onto the stage and make his way to the piano. He waved to Roberto who slid off of his stool and rushed up to the stage before Steve could stop him.

Scott chuckled, clapped a hand on the frazzled Captain’s shoulder and said, “Don’t worry about the kid, Rogers. He’ll have the run of the place before the night is through. Besides, this is a strictly private affair tonight. Nothing risqué at all. So you don’t have to worry about his tender sensibilities.” Steve relaxed and finally nodded as Scott made his way around the bar. “Not the kid has tender sensibilities anymore. His sister is a singer in an old timey burlesque,” the younger man said with a chuckle. “Better find a good seat Rogers, the guests will be coming soon.”

Steve watched him make his way towards where some of the other Alcott employees sat and then he sighed. Soft piano music started to drift through the theater as Mike and Roberto struck up a duet and Steve’s lips quirked in an absentminded smile as he settled at a table near the piano. He knew from experience that Anna would be near the instrument and her accompanist.

As 8 o’clock drew nearer the theater filled; gone were the late-night rowdy crowds that usually frequented the theater. Instead there were musicians, actors and past employees of the Alcott drifting through the doors and as Steve kept an eye on his charge, his ears pricked at the unusual conversations drifting around him.

He was suddenly struck by how similar this crowd of artists was to the people of his youth; he wasn’t sure why, but the friends of Birdy and her girls were nearly as old-fashioned as he was. It was puzzling but also endearing. It was very much like the night in Bailey’s. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine it was 1940 again and he was in one of the Brooklyn bars waiting for Bucky and his latest girl to show.

Sadness rocked him at the thought but before he could reflect on long-gone friends, Roberto had returned and the theater had gone quiet.

Steve shot the kid a questioning look but he shook his head and pointed to the rear door; everyone was watching it, some of the women suppressing giggles as they all waited with baited breath and Steve realized this was the start of the evening.

Birdy was coming.

There was a soft rustle on the stage and he glanced over his shoulder to see Anna settling before the switchback mike. Her eyelid lowered in a slow wink but before he could react the main door creaked open and as the owner of the Alcott slipped through the small group erupted in cheers and shouts of “Happy Birthday!”

Birdy gasped and then started to laugh, her deep, mellow voice drifting around the theater and providing further warmth to the small gathering.

“Oh you idiots! I should have known! Let me guess, there’s nothing wrong with the plumbing at all Merle,” she said to the doorman standing by the bar.

He chuckled, his voice reedy and he said as he handed her a glass of champagne Scott had just poured, “Oh there is Bird. Damn toilet in the girl’s room is broken. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have a party, right?”

She chuckled again, her dark eyes welling with tears and she waved a hand covered in rings and bangles, “Oh all right. Get on with it.”

As she downed her champagne there was a soft laugh from the stage and Steve felt the small hairs at the back of his neck stand up. He turned forward, his eyes catching sight of a grinning Roberto at his side but the only thing he noticed was the slow, sensual rise of Anna’s hands as she moved to grip the mike and the tremble of her hair as she lowered her head to croon breathlessly into the old-fashioned microphone, “Happy Birthday Mrs. Boss Lady, happy birthday…to you.”

Everyone cheered and laughed and Birdy shook her head as more champagne was poured in her glass. Roberto chuckled as Anna curtsied laughingly and beckoned for some of the girls to join her on the stage. Steve shot a questioning glance to the boy whose eyebrows rose and he exclaimed, “You don’t know the Marilyn ‘Happy Birthday’ song Steve? Jeez! Where have you been living, under a rock?”

Steve flushed and shifted uncomfortably as he was reminded once more of how behind the times he was. “I don’t really pay attention to pop culture Roberto,” he said carefully as Anna and two of the other girls, Megan and Sammy he thought their names were, clustered around the mike.

Roberto snorted and shook his head. “Pop culture, right. Remind me to introduce you to Some Like it Hot and the Misfits when we get home,” he muttered as his sister and her friends started their number.

Steve frowned and turned back to the stage, his attention slipping as Anna and the girls sang a raunchy ballad about an Irish farmer and his horse.

He wasn’t sure if all birthday parties were like this now-a-days but he found as the night went on that he was greatly enjoying himself. Especially when Anna joined them a while later and whispered in his ear, “Would you like to dance?”  
They danced a couple numbers together, their heads bent towards each other’s and Anna chuckled as he spun her skillfully around a table. “You’ve gotten better at this Steve. The other night in Bailey’s you were kind of uncomfortable.”

He smiled sheepishly and murmured, “I’d never danced with a dame before that night.”

A slender brow crooked as she snorted and asked, “Oh? And what did you dance with before that? Dogs?”

“Big Joe, actually,” he said with a laugh as he dipped her gently, his hand spreading along her back.

“Big Joe?” she gasped as he righted her and pulled her once more against his chest. His laugh vibrated through his chest beneath his ear and she shivered. “I bet that was a sight to see,” she murmured.

He nodded, his lips lifted in a small smile against her hair. They danced together for quite some time, each lost in the other’s arms and just as Anna was sure it was time to call the night quits and have a quiet conversation with the Captain, Birdy asked for a jaunt with the Nightingale’s man. Steve hesitated but after sharing a worried glance with Anna, nodded and agreed to dance with the birthday girl. She smiled as he placed a tentative hand on her waist and she said with a chuckle as he began spinning her around the room, “Having a good time tonight Captain?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said politely as they wove around a gently swaying Catrin and her boyfriend who was here with his band; they were currently playing a soft Duke Ellington number and he being the lead singer, had taken the opportunity to dance with his girl. She winked at the Captain and he blushed. These burlesque girls always threw him for a loop… “Happy birthday,” he continued as Birdy gazed at him thoughtfully.

“Thank you Captain. So what are you doing here tonight?” Her dark eyes were solemn and he jumped slightly as her hold on him tightened.

“Uh,” he stammered as she suddenly took the lead and steered him into the shadows by the bar. “Anna invited me…” he said nervously as she dropped his hand and placed her hands firmly on her hips.

“Right. So can I ask what your intentions are with my best singer? Are you just dating her because she works at a burlesque? Or do you think because she’s a single mother who works two jobs and lives in a shady part of Brooklyn that she can’t take care of herself and that she’s just another notch for your belt?” A manicured nail rose to poke him firmly in the chest as he started to protest and she continued, her voice dangerously low, “Well don’t count on it buddy. She’s the darling of this theater and I consider her a daughter. So you better think carefully about how you’re going to progress before you hurt her. Do you understand me Captain Rogers because if not you’ll find your stay in Brook-“

The sound of someone quietly clearing her throat behind Steve made both of them jump and Steve glanced over his shoulder to see Anna standing there with a small smile on her lips.

“Hello you two. What were you saying about Steve’s stay in Brooklyn Birdy?”

Her dark eyes sparkled mischievously and he realized she had heard the quiet confrontation. And judging by the humor in her eyes she’d found the whole thing hilarious.

Birdy grumbled about making sure Steve was settling in all right and Anna only shook her head. “Can I steal my Captain back then, Birdy, before I have to go on stage for the final number?” she asked as she held her hand out for Steve to take.

Birdy waved her hand and muttered as his fingers slid against Anna’s, “Yes sweetheart. Just be careful all right? Oh!” she shouted as Anna and Steve made their way to the dance floor once more. “Some of my friends from Studio 25 are here and want to talk to you baby cakes! Make sure you see them before the night is through.”

Anna’s soft laugh followed her as Steve swept her into his arms and spun her around the theater. His eyebrows rose and she sighed at the questions in his eyes, “She’s always pushing me on recording studios in hopes that it’ll be my big break. She’s always said a person with my ‘talent’ shouldn’t waste it in a burlesque. What she doesn’t realize is that most companies anymore want either celebrities or professionally trained voices to provide the talent for their productions.” She shrugged one slender shoulder as he spun her slowly and sighed, “I’m neither.”

Steve frowned and stopped beside their table where Roberto was being taught magic tricks by Scott and Aisha. He was currently trying to make a coin disappear. The French Drop, Scott called it.

“Anna,” he said slowly as his hand rose to tuck that one wild curl behind her ear; she shivered as the back of his knuckles trailed down her cheek. “You have real talent. You’re amazing and they’re all fools if they haven’t realized it yet.”

She was quiet, her eyes locked on his, memories of the other night on the roof and of this evening in her living room running through her mind and she smiled gently before closing the small distance between them and placing a tender kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you Steve,” she whispered as she slid from his hands and made her way to the stage where Mike and the band currently played a smooth and slow ballad.

Steve’s eyes followed her, his frown still in place and he jumped when he heard Roberto mutter to Scott and Aisha, “See? Told you it was serious.”

He glanced at the three people watching him, flushed and muttered, “I need another drink.”

He made his way to the bar as the band finished their song. He barely missed slamming into a squat man in a three-piece suit and coke-bottle glasses. “Sorry,” he muttered as he spun instinctively out of the way.

“Watch it young man,” the little man said with a chuckle. “We can’t spill such prime mint.” He lifted his flute of champagne and Steve couldn’t help a wry smile as the man took a sip. Before he could make his way to the bar, though, his companion did a double take and suddenly gripped Steve’s sleeve. “Wait! You were dancing with Birdy’s singer! Tell me, young man, do you know the Nightingale personally?”

Steve hesitated, his eyes narrowing, both at the contact and at the question and he said slowly, his voice chill, “Yes I do. I’m stepping out with her.”

“Stepping out-My! How wonderful! Then you know of her talent! Tell me, can she sing as well as Birdy claims?” The little man was fairly bouncing beside Steve who gently disentangled his hand from the man’s grip.

Glancing at the stage he nodded in that direction and murmured as someone tapped the microphone and said with a soft laugh, Well ladies and gents, it’s that time once again, “You’ll see for yourself sir. That’s the Nightingale now.”

He made his way to the bar as the little man gasped in pleasure and hurried towards his partner who was sullenly sipping from a glass of whiskey. Steve shook his head and asked for a pint. He turned back to the stage as Anna continued, “It’s been a wonderful night, full of good food, good booze, good cake and most importantly good music. It’s been lovely seeing all of your faces once more and while we may all wish to hear a speech from our beautiful hostess we all know that won’t happen.” Laughter rippled around the theater at her words and Anna smiled as Birdy folded her arms and shook her head imperiously. Her eyes searched the theater and finally she found Steve as he was making his way towards their table. Her smile deepened at the sight of him sitting beside Roberto who promptly snuggled down beside him, planting his head firmly in the hollow of his shoulder.

Her little family.

She glanced at Mike, who winked and took a sip of his beer before opening her folder of sheet music. Turning back to her audience she sighed and murmured into the mike, “Sadly it’s midnight. Some of us have kids to get into bed,” she winked at Roberto who only yawned. “And some of us have second jobs to wake up for in the morning. So I think it’s time to close this shindig with a lullaby. So goodnight and good luck my friends.”

Her dark gaze settled on Steve briefly as Mike’s fingers began to drift over the keys and she sighed as her eyes fluttered closed. Hopefully Steve would understand why she was singing this song.

Hopefully the meaning behind the words wouldn’t be lost.

_That certain night, the night we met_   
_There was magic abroad in the air_   
_There were angels dining at the Ritz_   
_And a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square_

_I may be right, I may be wrong_   
_But I'm perfectly willing to swear_   
_That when you turned and smiled at me_   
_A nightingale sang in Berkeley Square_

_The moon that lingered over London town_   
_Poor puzzled moon, he wore a frown_   
_How could he know we two were so in love_   
_The whole darned world seemed upside down_

_The streets of town were paved with stars_   
_It was such a romantic affair_   
_And as we kissed and said good-night_   
_A nightingale sang_   
_A nightingale sang_   
_I know 'cause I was there_   
_That night in Berkeley Square_

There was silence in the theater when she finished and the last thing she saw before she made her way backstage was Steve holding a sleepy eyed Roberto, a thoughtful look on his face.

Had he gotten her message then?

She hoped so.

________________________________________

“Miss Conti?”

Anna’s head snapped up at the quiet voice in the women’s dressing room and frowned at the two men standing in the doorway. “Yes, that’s me. Who’s asking?” she asked as she stood. Her dark eyes swept the two men, noting their expensive suits and manicured nails. Who were these weirdos then?

“We’re Mr. Richards and Mr. Sampson, representatives of Studio 25,” said the squat man with the hideous glasses. He approached her and held out a business card, which she took after a brief moment of hesitation. She glanced at the heavy card stock and tried to ignore the sudden thunder in her ears. What the hell was going on?

“We were invited here this evening by our friend and partner Birdina Johnson. She told us of a particular talent she employs and mentioned that this particular talent may be just what our producers are looking for for a new project they have underway,” the man paused, his eyes sparkling from behind his lenses. “Are you that talent Miss Conti?” he asked quietly.

Anna’s eyes were wide as she glanced from squat little man in his three piece Armani suit to his tall, lanky partner with the bored expression on his face. “What?” she choked out, her mind spinning and her words failing her.

The slender man reached out and tapped the card, “There is a date and a time on the back of the card, Miss Conti. If you desire to audition for this role, simply arrive 15 minutes before the time written there and our secretaries will take it from there. Good evening.”

She blinked owlishly as the men left the dressing room and then her eyes fell once more to the card. Flipping it over she read the note written there in precise handwriting, “Room 25, May 4th, 2012 at Noon.”

She shivered as she read the date and time once more.

There was something…ominous…about that day.

She didn’t pause to think about why she was so uneasy about May 4th. She simply passed it off as pre-audition nerves and shoved the card into her purse. Then, grabbing her jacket, she made her way from the dressing room to the front of the theater where a few of her friend’s still remained.

As well as a thoughtful Steve Rogers who stood by the door, his arms cradling a sleeping Roberto.

She said her goodbyes to the girls and Birdy and then made her way towards her date and brother. As they exited the now darkened Alcott neither mentioned her song and the implications of that song.

She was too busy thinking about the card in her purse.

He was trying to find the right words to say to the girl who may or may not have declared her love for him that night.

The ride back to her apartment was quiet.


	13. The Sunday Punch

April 25, 2012

The Saturday following Birdy’s party and Anna’s unusual meeting with tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum of Studio 25, dawned cold and bright. She rolled out of her own bed and tried to ignore the wrench of her heart as she realized she hadn’t slept walked into Steve’s arms last night.

Shaking her head and muttering to herself in angry Italian, she shuffled to the bathroom and began cleaning herself up. What had happened last night? Had she even said goodnight to Steve? Why had they been so quiet?

She stilled in the process of brushing her hair as she remembered singing the Nightingale song, one of the greatest love songs from the 1940’s, for Steve. She’d been refusing to sing that song for years now, despite Birdy’s insistence that it would have been perfect for her on-stage persona.

She simply couldn’t. Not until she was absolutely sure she was singing it for the right person.

It had been her parent’s song after all. That song was why she’d chosen the Nightingale act for the Alcott. Her singing it for Steve…well…she’d known why she’d chosen it. It had been the right move.

Hadn’t it?

She shivered and set the brush down on the sink, bowing her head as the implications of what this relationship really meant to her once more rushed to the forefront of her mind.

He’d said she was the right partner for his new life.

She’d run away.

But then she’d sung him the perfect song.

And they hadn’t said anything to each other on the way home.

“Idiot,” she muttered to herself, self-loathing in her voice. “What were you thinking Adrianna?!” Sighing, she grabbed her toothbrush and began brushing her teeth, avoiding her mirrored-self’s gaze all the while. She didn’t think she could handle the guilt most definitely showing in her eyes.

She’d have to step up and talk to Steve. She’d have to explain to him what he meant to her. Or something…

Firming her resolve as she pulled her hair into a neat ponytail and grabbed a somewhat clean bra off of the floor she rushed into the bedroom to find some clean clothes before making her way into the main part of the apartment.

Not that her being clothed really mattered. Steve had seen her in yoga pants and grungy t-shirts every night this week.

But as she pulled on her jeans and a soft v-necked long sleeve shirt of forest green she realized her getting dressed was similar to her suiting up for a battle.

If there was one thing Adrianna Conti wasn’t good at, it was expressing her feelings. Especially to kind veterans who had saved her kiester more times than she liked to think about. Especially since said veteran had wrapped his arms around her last night and whispered in her ear that she had dazzled him.

She snorted and tugged the shirt firmly over her breasts. How had she dazzled him again? Oh, by being slightly prickly and by being a decent singer.

God, she needed to tell him how she really felt. Or she was going to lose her mind.

Throwing her door open she made her way down the hall, her ears pricked for any sound coming from the living room. The apartment was silent, though, and as she glanced into Roberto’s apartment and saw his empty bed, her heart started to hammer painfully in her chest.

Where were the boys?!

She didn’t realize she was running until she slid across the linoleum of the kitchen floor slamming hip-first into the kitchen counters, her nose inches from a post-it note with a note written in Steve’s tidy cursive suctioned to the bright yellow cabinet which held her pasta maker and bread machine.

She had to read that note three times before the words registered.

 _Anna_ , he’d written, his handwriting infuriatingly neat.

_R and I thought we’d let you sleep. You certainly need it after this past week. I’ve taken R out for some breakfast and then we’re going to the gym to fit in an easy work-out. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. I have his antibiotics._

_We’ll be back soon._

_Steve_

Anna’s eyes were wide as she stared at the bright pink note and then she swore softly. He’d taken her brother, her still sick, little brother, out of the apartment without telling her. And better yet, he’d taken him boxing.

What the actual hell.

The sound of the front door of 543b slamming with her departure echoed through the building, but as Mrs. Forster from 421a screamed for her to learn to close her door quietly, all Anna could do was wonder what she was going to say when she confronted Steve about this.

Because, if she was being honest with herself, she really did love the fact that Steve Rogers had taken such a vested interest in her little brother.

It felt like having a father in the family again.

It felt like…having a partner to share Roberto with.

* * *

Steve’s shoulders were tight with irritation but Roberto pretended not to notice the Captain’s discomfort. He was more focused on remembering the technique Steve had just taught him. No matter how loud the taunts got, he would ignore the jerks in the far corner. He was used to it. He could handle it. He wouldn’t let the Captain see how scared and hurt he was.

Which, of course, made the whole thing even worse.

“Hey Rogers!” bellowed one of the men, a young hot-shot who had signed onto the gym roster a week or so ago and who thought he knew all there was to know about pugilism, thus making him a cocky little bastard. “Didn’t realize you liked playing with little boys! Were you part of the boy scout’s growing up?”

Hearty guffaws drifted over from their corner and Steve’s hands tightened dangerously in their tape.

“Try that foot placement again,” he said to the boy standing in front of him. “You almost had it that time.”

Roberto nodded, a small, fierce smile on his lips as his cheeks warmed with the taunts. “Did I twist the toes of my right foot in too much Cap?” he asked as he once more raised his fists into the defensive butterfly stance he was learning this morning.

Before Steve could answer, a sweaty towel fell to the floor beside them and one of the jerks from the back corner called, “Hey, Jose! Pick it up! The dirty laundry baskets are overflowing!”

Roberto’s shoulders stiffened but as the muscles in Steve’s jaw ticked he muttered, “Leave it, Cap, they’re just being jerks. I’m used to it.”

Steve stared at him, his blue eyes as cold as the ice that had cradled him for seventy years and he realized, as he slowly bent to pick up the towel, he wasn’t going to leave it. He may be a firm believer in peace and in only fighting those who were truly evil, but he wasn’t going to let anyone-anyone-insult this boy.

He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but at some point Roberto Conti had become like a son to him. And anyone who hurt his boy was going to have to deal with Captain freaking America.

His lips twitched into a feral little smile as he used Roberto’s words and as he prowled across the gym towards the three punks who had been harassing them since they’d gotten to Big Joe’s almost an hour previous, he realized he’d never wanted to hit something so bad.

“How about you pick it up, son,” he snarled as he tossed the disgusting towel at its owner’s feet. “Seeing as how you’re the kind of trash who usually comes for the dirty laundry of this establishment.”

The punks stared at him and his cold eyes absently sized them up, cataloguing their weaknesses and strengths even though that didn’t really matter. It hadn’t mattered for over seventy years. But instinct is instinct and it never hurts to understand your enemy.

“What did you say to me butt-munch?” snarled the pimply kid he knew was the ringleader of this little band of morons.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” he asked, his voice cold. Behind him, he could hear the gym falling silent and he sighed internally. They had an audience. “Are you deaf?” he continued as he took one dangerous step forward, his shoulders tensing as he towered over all three kids. “You’re trash and if you’re going to insult a thirteen year old who has more honor than you have facial hair, then maybe you should take it up with somebody who isn’t afraid of hitting an idiot.”

His long-dead mother would have been horrified at the words falling from his lips right now.

Bucky would have been tickled pink.

And Anna…

His eyes fluttered closed as he pictured her beautiful eyes as she gazed at him from over a switchback mike and he almost backed down.

When Roberto slid his hand in his, he felt himself start to relax and the sudden red film marring his vision dimmed. “Steve,” the kid whispered. “Calm down man. They’re just stupid wangsters. Let’s get out of here.” Which of course made the punks start their catcalling all over again.

“Yeah, Stevey, calm down! Go sit in your big comfy chair and drag that kid into your lap so you can show him a good time!”

If you had asked Steve Rogers, Captain America, newly emerged from the Arctic, how his hand had suddenly wrapped itself around the kid’s throat, he wouldn’t have been able to answer you.

As his fingers squeezed around the kid’s throat he bent his head forward and hissed, “You want to fight? Fine. Ring. Now. You back out, you’re a coward and I never want to see you at this establishment again, got it?”

The kid, suddenly speechless and more than a little scared, nodded and Steve sneered as his fingers released one-by-one.

“You’re on,” choked the kid as his friend’s pounded his back and bolstered up his misplaced courage. “I’m not afraid of hitting an old man. I’ll wipe the mat with your face.”

Steve’s eyes sparkled with dark humor and he sneered. “We’ll see.”

He turned to see Roberto being held back by Big Joe and he muttered as he began ripping the old tape from his knuckles, “You’ve been wanting to see me fight Joe? Well, now you’re going to get it. The ring ready?”

Joe Dugan’s eyes were thoughtful as he studied the Captain and he nodded, saying slowly, “Yeah it’s ready. It’s always ready. Are you sure about this Cap? He’s just a stupid college kid who’s taken a few college tae-kwan-do classes and who thinks he’s clever because of that. You don’t have to do this right now.”

Steve smiled a tight little smile and settled his hand on the gym owner’s shoulder, saying, “Yeah, I do Joe. This has to be settled, right here, right now.”

“But…why?” Joe asked. He didn’t understand why the Captain wanted to fight now. The man had been refusing him for two months now. Why the sudden change?

Steve hesitated and his eyes settled on a pale Roberto, still being held by Joe and he said, “Because he insulted my kid, Joe.”

And then he turned to make his way to the ring, pausing only to shuck his shirt and to grab the tape and gloves from his gym bag as he passed his usual corner. His muscles burned and stretched at the thought of finally being let loose and never once did he tell himself he’d need to hold himself back.

It was too late for love taps.

Steve Rogers was going to go for the K.O. now.

* * *

Anna was halfway to Big Joe’s, about five blocks from her apartment complex, before realizing she’d left her jacket behind. She shivered as the cold April winds whipped across her face and briefly, she considered going home or at least catching a bus.

But home was over three blocks away and the bus wouldn’t take her much closer.

She sighed and tugged the sleeves of her shirt over her hand and ducked her head. She’d just have to hurry. Her mind was still spinning as she thought of Roberto and Steve; she couldn’t help thinking of the past few times she’d seen the boys together. Steve was so good with her little brother, all calm stoicism as Roberto chattered about historical events she hardly remembered from her high school American history classes.

Steve would simply sit back on the couch and listen to the kid, every now and then piping up with his own little facts and tidbits that always amazed her. He knew more about battles from the World Wars than a historian, which had always intrigued her.

She’d asked him about it the other night while Roberto slept, curled against her side on the couch.

_“So, are you one of those guys who dresses up and reenacts historical battles we won during the wars?” She glanced at Steve, who had Roberto’s blanket swaddled legs in his lap and chuckled at his bewildered look. “Seriously Steve, you and Roberto just sat through this documentary on the History Channel about the iron-mongers of WWII doing nothing but correcting their facts. I thought my little brother was the only one who did that.”_

_Steve hesitated, an uncomfortable look on his face and he turned back to the TV where a show about a pawn shop in Las Vegas was currently showing with the sound muted. “Uh,” he said slowly, his face scrunched up. “Well, I guess I know more about WWII than most people. But I don’t dress up or anything like that. I’m a soldier…I don’t really want to relive a battle of any sort.”_

_Anna rested her head on her hand and watched him thoughtfully. “Huh,” she said. “So you didn’t know Howard Stark personally?”_

_He jumped, his eyes widening and she chuckled. “Kidding, kidding. I’m just pulling your leg. You just sounded like you knew him somehow. You must have done a lot of reading on him.”_

_“Reading,” Steve muttered as he rose, setting Roberto’s legs aside. “Uh yeah, sorry. Want some tea?”_

_His blue eyes were earnest as he begged her to allow this change of subject and she frowned, a small part of her wondering why the sudden discomfort. “Sure Steve,” she said, her voice surprised. “I’ll take some chamomile. Do you want some help?” She started to rise but his hand rested on her head and he shook his head with a small smile on his lips._

_“No that’s okay. I know how you like it.”_

_She watched him thoughtfully as he made his way towards the kitchen._

_“What was that?” she whispered as she shifted her brother’s heavy head in her lap._

Jerking back to the present she realized that during her little recollection she’d made it almost to Dugan’s gym. With a sigh of relief she picked up her pace, her hand tightening around her cell phone. She’d called Roberto twice but he hadn’t picked up and while she’d briefly considered calling the gym, she’d just decided to forgo that and get there as soon as possible.

Besides, there wasn’t much of a rush. She trusted Steve, trusted to keep her brother safe.

She just had to set some boundaries…

As she entered the gym, just in time to see a kid of about eighteen years go flying limply across the boxing ring to smash cruelly against the ropes slung along the edges of the ring, she gasped in horror.

The little half shriek was loud in the tense silence of the gym but as half a dozen eyes turned in her direction she didn’t acknowledge them. Her gaze was locked on the panting, shirtless, god of an ex-Army Captain currently lowering his wrists from one of the most violent K.O.’s any in the ancient gym had ever seen.

As his cold blue eyes settled on her she shuddered at the haunted iciness in his gaze and her hands rose to her lips as she gasped his name.

“Oh holy Jesus. _Steve_!”

Steve Rogers felt his heart freeze at the horror in her eyes and he whispered her name as he took a shaky step forward.

“Anna, please…”

But it was too late. She was gone.

The sound of the heavy door closing behind her was like a cannon going off in the gym and as Steve swung off of the ring Roberto rushed up to him, his eyes wide.

“Steve, that was Anna! What are you going to do? You have to stop her!” Roberto said breathlessly as Steve made his way to the front doors.

Steve stopped Roberto from following him, his hand shooting out to catch the kid firmly in the chest. “Stay here Roberto,” he said, his voice as cold as the ice in his veins. “I have to talk to her, alone.”

“But-“

“Stay. Here.” Steve growled, his eyes blazing fiercely for a moment. “Help that kid, get him some ice for his jaw.”

Roberto’s mouth popped open and he gasped, “Help him? But he’s a punk!”

Steve sighed, his eyes closing as he sought his former control. “Yeah, he is,” he said slowly, the words stiff and cold in his mouth. “But if you show him some kindness maybe the lesson will be learned.”

The two stared at each other for a moment, Steve’s eyes as calm and still as an icy ocean, Roberto’s curious and terrified.

Both knew how things were going to fall out between Steve and Anna.

Before Steve could react, Roberto’s arms were wrapping themselves tightly around his neck and he was whispering in his ear, “You’re my hero, Steve Rogers.”

Steve straightened, his heart hammering and his eyes pricking with tears as he watched the kid run over to where Big Joe and some of the usuals were helping the kid he’d clobbered sit up.

Then with a heavy hearted sigh, he shucked the gloves and made his way through the gym towards the front door. He only paused to grab his jacket. He’d noticed Anna had forgotten hers…

She’d be cold.

* * *

She’d gotten halfway up the block when Steve caught up with her. She was shaking so badly by the time he wrapped his heavy leather coat around her shoulders her teeth were chattering.

She wasn’t even sure if it was because of the cold northeasterly wind sweeping down on them or because she’d just seen the guy she was dating nearly kill a kid not much older than her.

“Anna,” he murmured as she continued walking. “Please, stop and talk to me.”

“Talk to you?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “How can I talk to you Steve? I just watched you throw a kid nearly as tall and as heavy as you all the way across a boxing ring. How the hell is that even possible?!”

His arm shot out to catch a hold of her elbow but she shook him off. “Don’t touch me,” she snarled, her eyes blazing as she turned on him. “Tell me this, Steve Rogers! Did my brother just watch you kick the living shit out of that kid? Was he there in that gym this afternoon?” She waited, her chest rising and falling heavily with her barely controlled panic and he hesitated before nodding. She laughed, a bitter cackle as hard and cold as the wind they stood in and her hands rose to twist into her wavy hair. “I knew it. You exposed him to that. You showed him it’s all right to let yourself go and let your anger get the best of you. Oh God…”

She pivoted on her heel and began making her way back to the gym. Steve was frozen for a moment, his hand still suspended from his trying to catch a hold of her and he watched with hopelessness in his gaze as she walked away from him.

“Anna,” he called, as he once more followed her. “Please, let me explain!”

She stopped again and turned towards him, her eyes hurt and terrified as she stabbed a finger into his bare chest and hissed, “ _What are you Steve Rogers_?! _Who_ are you?! Because what I just saw back there was not _normal_. That was not what normal boxing is. That was freaking Saturday Morning cartoons! You smashed a kid all the way across a boxing ring!”

He sighed and caught her hand as she poked him once more in the chest and he said slowly, calmly, “Can I explain? Or are you just going to keep calling me a freak?”

She froze, her eyes widening and he sighed again. Reaching out to pull his jacket more firmly around her shoulders he said softly, “You’re right. I’m not normal. I haven’t been for longer than I care to remember. Anna, I’m different from most men. I’m…not human.”

She choked out another bitter laugh and tried to pull free of his hand; he didn’t release her though and her eyes widened at his tight grip. He’d never let himself exhibit even half of his strength with the Conti’s and it was killing him now to see the slow dawning of horror in her eyes.

“Anna, please,” he whispered as her shivering increased. “Please, trust me. I would never hurt you, never hurt Roberto but you have to understand that I’m not a typical soldier. I’m…” he sighed and closed his eyes, his mind darting back seventy years to that day when he was placed in the pod as a ninety pound asthmatic and emerged as a 200 pound American legend. Opening his eyes he met her dark, horrified gaze and he whispered, “I’m a super soldier.”

Anna froze, her mind choking on his words and impossibly it latched onto the image of her brother’s Captain America G.I. Joe doll and she felt her knees start to buckle as she saw the truth in his eyes.

Steve Rogers wasn’t human. She’d been a fool not to notice that before now.

“Let go of me,” she whispered, tears beginning to fill her eyes. “Please, let me go and leave me and Roberto alone. I never want to see you again Steve Rogers. If I see you again I’ll call the cops!”

Steve let her go then, his ice-rimmed heart shattering at the pain and distrust in her eyes and he watched emotionlessly as she ran away from him, back to the gym and her little brother.

He’d always known it would end up this way.

He’d always known that his finding of the right partner would just be a sham.

How could anyone want him? How could anyone love him?

He was ancient.

He was ice.

He…should have been left in the Arctic.

* * *

Anna and Roberto got all the way home before she realized she’d left her phone in Steve’s coat pocket.

She didn’t even remember placing it there.

And somehow that just further proved how horrible this betrayal had been.

She didn’t tell her brother about her lost phone.

As Roberto rushed down the hall to his room, tears silently streaming down his face, she stood in the front hallway and waited for the world to end.

She’d never felt this pain before, never felt as if her entire being was shattering to pieces with every lurching beat of her heart.

She hadn’t even felt this way when her parents had died.

This felt like…

This felt like she’d lost the second half of her entire being.

Like she’d lost her soulmate.

“Oh God,” she whispered as her knees finally gave way under her agony. She slid down the front door, her face buried in her hands and sobbed as her heart continued to break.

She stayed like that for hours.

* * *

He stood on the sidewalk just a few buildings away from Big Joe’s Gym for what felt like centuries but as his heart started knitting itself back together, he bent to pick up his leather jacket that she had dropped at his feet as she’d run away.

Sliding his arms into the sleeves with an absent minded shiver, he almost didn’t notice the unusual weight filling the right hand pocket of his coat. As he pushed the doors of the gym open he finally did and reached into the pocket, his fingers closing around a cold plastic rectangle; his heart lurched painfully as he pulled Anna’s phone from the silk-lined pocket and he almost smiled at the sight of the screen lighting up at his touch.

Her screen was a picture of her, Roberto and himself from the night before at the Alcott, their arms wrapped around each other as Roberto laughed and she kissed Steve’s cheek.

They’d been so happy.

His fingers closed around the phone and he slid it back into his coat pocket.

It was a little bit of her.

He’d keep it for now. At least until he had the courage to face her.

That night, when he collapsed against the wall of the gym, surrounded by the remnants of six or so punching bags, his chest rose and fell heavily as he sought to catch his breath and his fingers stretched out to that pocket; he removed the phone, his fingers stumbling against the screen as he sought to turn it on.

His sigh was loud in the still silence of the gym as he gazed at the picture of the two people he had fallen in love with.

 


	14. Throw in the Towel

When Fury came to the gym early in the morning of May 2nd, Steve was so deep in his own head it took him almost five minutes and about two punching bags to realize he was being watched by the one-eyed Director of SHIELD. Of course, it really didn't help his mood when Fury's lips twitched in a tight little smile and he asked, "Trouble sleeping?"

Steve snorted and began working yet another bag. He'd gone through most of Joe Dugan's back-up stash this past week. Not that Joe minded. The Captain...well, the Captain needed them more than most of the other guy's and besides, Steve Rogers always made sure to pay for any damage he made.

"You've already asked me that, sir," he ground out, his jaw flexing as he smashed his fist into the canvas, letting the bag swing freely for a moment. "I don't want to make another stupid joke about seventy year naps."

The Director moved slowly into the gym, his one eye thoughtful as he watched the Captain once more pick up working the stiff canvas; he knew what had happened here eight days ago. He'd known it would happen from the moment Rogers had met the Conti woman. How could it not?

After all, Steve Rogers was not by any means, a normal man.

"She talked to you yet Cap?"

Steve froze, his fist striking the bag with a resounding 'thud' and he shivered. Somehow, the thought of SHIELD knowing so much about his life always disturbed him. But this? This was personal.

This was his life. _Not_ SHIELD's.

He glanced at the Director, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed the man held another blank manila folder in his hands. "Are you here with a mission sir?" he asked, his voice stiff as he sought to turn the subject from Adrianna Conti.

He didn't like the thought of SHIELD's commanding officer keeping an eye on her.

"You know I don't want to work for SHIELD,” he ground out, his fingers fiddling with the tape on his opposite hand. “I just want to be let alone. To try and find my way in this world." His blue eyes were haunted as he watched the Director approach him and he tried to fight off the old battle-sense that was suddenly triggered by the fear in the Director's gaze.

Fury's lips twitched again but he didn't smile. Instead he grimaced and Steve couldn't help himself as he stretched out a still-taped hand to take the files the Director thrust at him. As he flipped open the cover of the folder he felt his heart freeze.

The cube. Schmidt's blue cube.

The Tesseract.

"Howard fished that out of the ocean," Fury said as his eye studied the pale-faced Captain. "He was searching for you Cap, but when he found the cube...well...he didn't stop searching for you."

"What was SHIELD doing with it?" Steve asked, his voice hoarse as he remembered that stomach-lurching plunge he took seventy years ago. If Fury was here, handing him a folder about the one thing he never thought he'd have to look at again, then something had happened to the damned cube.

"Howard Stark thought the cube could be a source of sustainable, clean energy. When he fished it out of the ocean he was the one man in the world who understood that that was something we would need desperately one day. We've been working on harnessing its power but..."

"Someone took it from you," Steve finished, his tone devoid of emotion as he flipped the page bearing a picture of the Tesseract, then and now, over to reveal a picture of a pale, dark haired man dressed in bizarre robes and bearing a staff.

A staff that glowed.

Like a Hydra weapon.

"Who is he?" he asked as he sat on the bench next to his gym bag and began removing the tape binding his knuckles.

The Director sighed and shoved his hands in his coat pockets. "His name is Loki. He's..." he hesitated, for a moment considering if he should tell the Captain everything. Steve glanced at him, a small frown wrinkling his brow as he sensed the Director's uncertainty but before he could question the man, he continued. "He's not from around here." A small smirk appeared on his lips that Steve didn't understand but once again he didn't have a chance to ask what the Director was hiding.

"There's a lot we're going to have to bring you up to speed on Cap," Fury said slowly, his weary eye watching as Steve dropped the folder onto the bench a little ways from where he sat. "If you're in, we'll have to debrief you. The world's gotten stranger than you could believe."

Steve sighed, his mind flicking from chance meetings in the streets of Brooklyn to roller skates to red lips crooning into a switch-back mike.

"I doubt there's much that could surprise me Colonel," he said stiffly as he bent to pick up one of the punching bags with a popped seam. He'd drop that one off at Joe's office so his son could tape it up in the morning.

Fury didn't laugh. Didn't crack a smile. "Ten bucks says you're wrong Cap."

Steve didn't acknowledge him.

As he made his way through the gym towards Joe's office, Fury called from behind him, his deep voice slightly desperate, "Is there anything you can tell us about the Tesseract, Captain?"

Ice crawled over his skin as he snarled, "You should have left it in the ocean."

Like me, was left unsaid but it hung in the air between the men as Steve snapped off the gym lights and prepared to depart for his dark apartment several blocks away.

By the time he came back into the main room to gather up his gym bag and jacket, Fury was gone.

The folder was left right where he'd set it. Along with directions to LaGuardia.

Steve sighed as he picked up both. Somehow, he knew where he was going to be in a few short hours.

As he left the gym and climbed onto his bike, very few would have noticed the deep shadows in his eyes or the harsh lines suddenly marring his face.

The one person who would have was currently singing in a burlesque.

He hesitated for a moment in the mouth of the alley, his bike rumbling contentedly beneath him and he tried to ignore the presence of that innocent manila folder currently shoved in the depths of his bag.

His head turned to the left, instinctively homing in on the location of the Alcott nearly fifteen blocks away.

If he was going on a mission...

He should say goodbye.

None noticed the bike turning left instead of right. None but the Director of SHIELD.

Fury sighed, a slight headache beginning to pound in his temples as he watched the red taillight of Rogers' Indian drive off.

He didn't worry though. He knew the Captain would join up for this mission. It was his duty. His purpose.

With a slight smirk on his lips he climbed into the black Acura sedan parked behind him and turned to his assistant. "Stark next. I'll drop you off at the Tower."

Phil Coulson nodded, his eyes hungry as he gazed off in the direction Rogers' had driven. "Was that..." he asked, his voice slightly less stoic than usual.

"It surely was," Fury said with a sigh. "Let's hope he realizes not everything is pretty legs and sad puppy dog eyes these days. Let's get out of here. Now remember, we need Stark. But don't let him know that. We need to keep these people reined in..."

As the Director discussed strategy with his one good eye, the black Acura peeled out of the adjacent alleyway from where Steve Rogers had parked and turned right, heading towards Manhattan and the hunk of narcissism looming on the horizon.

None noticed the sedan.

No one ever noticed.

* * *

May 2nd, 2012

She'd been moving in a daze for a week now, her body going through the motions of her everyday life as her mind tried to catch up with itself.

She was lost though.

A part of her wondered if that day outside of the gym wasn't just a particularly twisted dream, a sick figment of her imagination or just a subconscious thought her mind had concocted to try and persuade itself that she wasn't ready to commit to a guy she barely knew but trusted with her whole being.

Had trusted.

Probably shouldn't have trusted.

I'm not normal, Anna. I'm not...human, he'd said. And she'd believed him.

Over and over, she watched as Steve's fist connected with that poor kid's gut. She watched as he flew through the air like a limp rag doll to tangle in the ropes across the ring from where Steve stood.

The kid had dropped, dropped like a sack of flour and she still couldn't wrap her mind around that, even a week later, as she sat in front of her mirror in the Alcott and prepared for her last number of the night.

As she arranged her hair, her eyes stared blankly at their reflected selves and she began shivering as she remembered the coldness of Steve's eyes that day. Never had she felt unsafe with him, even when he had first arrived at her door. Even when he had struck her with his bike.

But that day outside of the gym?

It wasn't much of a stretch, his not being normal.

She still had bruises on her wrist from where he had gripped her.

"You're hunk of adorable coming tonight, baby cakes?"

Anna jumped as Catrin and Aisha appeared over her shoulder in the mirror. "What?" she asked, forcing herself back into reality. "Sorry, I was thinking."

"Thinking of her beautiful G.I. Joe most likely," Aisha chuckled as she took over rearranging Anna's hair. "So is he coming tonight?"

Catrin's light blue eyes were thoughtful as she perched on her friend's vanity; she'd sensed Anna's distraction over the past week. And judging by the firm set of the other woman's jaw and the tight way she gripped the edge of the table? Something had happened between Anna and her boyfriend.

"What'd he do, sweetie?" Catrin asked, her voice soft as she gazed at Anna. Aisha's mouth popped open but Catrin shook her head, warning the other girl to be quiet.

Anna hesitated and then sighed, her hands falling away from her makeup to twist idly in the soft fabric of her silver dress. "Nothing happened Cat," she said, her voice distant. "We just had a...falling out, I suppose."

Catrin's eyes narrowed and she leaned over to catch a hold of Anna's hand. "A falling out, huh?" she asked as she raised the other girl's wrist and pushed the many silver and gold bangles she wore, back over her forearm. Aisha gasped at the sight of the fading bruises circling her wrist and Anna tried to yank free. Catrin didn't let her go though, simply tightened her grip and asked, "Did he do this to you Anna?"

"No-yes-it's not what you think!" Anna sputtered as she stood and finally pulled free of her friend. "He didn't hurt me on purpose," she snapped as both girls stared at her in horror. She cradled her wrist and shook her head. "It was...it was a misunderstanding. He didn't mean to...to hurt me."

Distantly, she heard her words and knew how idiotic she sounded. How pathetic.

But once again she watched as Steve's fist smashed into a kid's stomach, forcing him across the ring in fall that shouldn't have been humanly possible.

She watched as he caught a hold of her hand and ground out a painful truth through clenched jaws. She remembered the cold fury in his eyes, the twisted shadows.

Had he meant to hurt that boy?

Had he meant to hurt her?

"No," she whispered with a fierce shake of her head as the other girls stared at her in fascinated horror. "It's not what you think."

As she rushed from the dressing room to the stage she wondered who she was trying to persuade.

Catrin and Aisha?

...Or herself.

* * *

The Alcott was busy when Steve arrived. Of course, it was Wednesday and it was near the end of the night and most Wednesdays the alcohol was half off.

It was also the night of the most musical numbers.

Anna, Ellen, Megan and T’niqua were the four main singers at the theater and Wednesdays were the one night of the week when all four were able to work together.

It was a well-known fact that Birdy loved Wednesdays.

Steve couldn't help a small smile from flashing across his lips as he watched tiny Ellen dance arm-in-arm with Kurt Heverd singing a bawdy song about a cow and her silver spoon. He knew that song, had heard it a lot during college.

It always surprised him how the Alcott was almost like a time-capsule of his long past youth.

As he made his way along the back wall of the theater, he nodded hello to Scott at the bar and sighed when he saw an empty table near the back corner of the room. He didn't want to sit near the front tonight; he'd catch Anna after her last number.

His heart lurched at the thought of seeing her again and he shivered as his fingers locked around her forgotten cell-phone.

A part of him had hoped she would have come back for it.

But Adrianna Conti was stubborn. The last thing she was going to do was surrender first.

Besides it meant he had something of hers to hold. Something to look at, to remember her by.

What was he going to say to her?

How was he going to apologize for this colossal mistake he had made?

How was he going to say goodbye?

Before he could find any answers to any of the questions swirling through his mind, the theater hushed and he shivered. As a soft spot hit the single switch-back mike placed near the front of the stage he felt his skin goosebump.

The Nightingale.

The first time he'd seen Anna she'd been in this theater, crooning that damned Gershwin he would forever associate with Peggy Carter and he'd fallen for her.

He hadn't known it then, of course. Newly emerged from the ice, he'd been furious at SHIELD, at the world for continuing while he slept, at his friends for abandoning him.

He'd been so...cold.

But now?

Watching as she came onto the stage now he realized she'd made him feel warm again. She and Roberto had helped him remember what it was to be normal. What it was like to not be a soldier.

No matter how tonight transpired he would always be thankful to the Conti's for that.

Anna was on the stage now, flanked by Megan and T’niqua and Steve frowned. What was she doing? Anna very rarely performed with the other girls. She was an entity unto herself, a powerhouse. She didn't have to have back-up singers to make it through a number.

What was she going to sing?

His heart hammered as he watched the three women turn their backs to the audience. Anna's arms stretched over her head, her wrists twisted delicately so that the bangles she wore spread all along her forearm and Steve shivered. This was different. Very different.

What was she doing?

Her back arched, making the silver gown she wore slither over her body like water and Steve felt his mouth go dry in response.

The theater was quiet, stunned as the Nightingale moved slowly before them. Then, just as the silence had gotten heavy, she began to sing unaccompanied, her voice soft and husky in the still theater.

_Plain gold ring on his finger he wore..._

Her hands twisted over her head and her left hand stretched out towards her left as Mike, the theater's accompanist, appeared on the stage. He bowed his head, his face shadowed by the fedora he usually wore for a show. Steve could see the small smile on the man's face as he caught Anna's fingers and kissed them before making his way to the piano.

_It was where everyone could see_

He took his seat and Anna paused, her voice trailing away as she glanced over her shoulder at the audience, her face shadowed by the birdcage veil she wore. Steve shivered as he imagined her eyes finding him in the shadows.

 _He belonged to someone, but not me_ , she crooned, her hands falling to smooth down her neck and over her sides to her hips, making most in the theater shudder. Steve's eyes fluttered closed as his hand clenched into a fist upon the top of his thigh.

Suddenly, she turned, her hands flying out to snatch the mike and she almost snarled, her lips twisting into a grimace, on the last line of the first verse.

_On his hand was a plain gold ring_

As she turned, the other girls did too, their faces shadowed and their feet kept a hard rhythm upon the stage floor throughout the rest of the song. Mike's fingers flew across the keys of the piano, keeping them all in tune.

_Plain gold ring had a story to tell_   
_It was one that I knew too well_

_And in my heart it will never be spring_ , she sang as her hands stroked the mike, slowly, sensually. Her eyes rose and a small smirk twisted her lips.

_Long as he wears that plain gold ring_

Steve felt his gut clench as first Megan and then T’niqua snapped their fingers, their faces harsh in the spotlight. Anna trembled as she gripped the mike, her face bent low over the head and he wished now that he had sat closer to the stage.

Just so he could see her face.

 _Nighttime_ , she breathed through a small piano riff, _comes calling on me_.

Her voice groaned as her back arched with the next lyric, _I know why I'll never be free_

Her head fell back and her hands rose once more to twist above her head as Tniqua and Megan vocalized, snapped and stamped behind her.

 _I can't stop these teardrops of mine_ , she sang, a broken chuckle falling through the words and he shivered at the actual sight of tears on her cheeks.

 _I'm gonna love him till the end of time_ , she whispered as Megan took over for a moment, her softly accented voice washing over the audience sitting enraptured before the women.

 _Plain gold ring has but one thing to say_ , 

_I'll remember till my dying days_

_In my heart it will never be spring_ , she whispered brokenly, her face rising to the lights above her.

 _Long as he wears that plain gold ring_.

Her hand twisted out towards Mike once more as he bent over the piano and her voice hitched.

_Plain gold ring on his finger he wore_

She continued singing, her voice husky and yet still beautiful, as the spots died one-by-one, and the other girls faded into the shadows behind her.

Over and over she crooned, _Plain gold ring on his finger he wore_ , and all in the theater felt her heart breaking.

It was silent when the stage finally went black.

The Nightingale had stunned them once more.

**

"She doesn't want to see you."

Steve turned at the familiar voice behind him and frowned. Catrin’s arms were folded over her chest and a dark scowl twisted her features.

“How does she know I’m here?” he asked, his eyes darting around the emptying theater. The departing crowd was hushed, still stunned by Anna’s heart wrenching number.

Catrin snorted and took a careful step forward, her eyes shadowed. “She doesn’t know you’re here. That doesn’t me she doesn’t not want to see you. So get out.”

He stilled at the girl’s harsh voice and frowned. “Catrin, I-“

She hissed and stabbed her finger into his chest, saying, “No. No way buddy. We’ve-all of us- dealt with assholes like you. I don’t want to hear your pathetic excuses for why you had to hurt her. I want you gone. I never want to see you around this theater. And I never want to see you near Anna again. Do you hear me?”

Steve was frozen, his mind locked under the girl’s onslaught; he did catch one thing, though, and when he choked out, “’Hurt her’? Catrin, what do you mean?” he felt cold fear ripple down his spine.

She laughed scornfully and tossed her curly dark hair over her shoulder. “The bruises?” she snarled, her lips twisting in a disgusted grimace. “Or were you too drunk to notice how tight you were gripping her as she tried to run away?”

His heart froze as he remembered grabbing Anna as she tried to move past him that day outside of the gym; he’d known he was holding her too tightly. But he hadn’t loosened his grip.

“How badly is she hurt?” he whispered, his eyes horrified as he gazed at her friend.

Catrin hesitated for a brief moment, uncertainty flashing in her eyes as she noticed his pale cheeks and horrified eyes. Then she shrugged it off and snorted. Men were all pigs. This was obviously an act. He was just afraid Anna was going to call the cops.

“She’ll be fine. You probably sprained her wrist though, judging by those bruises. But she will never complain, will she? Because even though you hurt her, she still has feelings for you.” Catrin snorted again and then shoved him. He didn’t move under her hands and a part of her jumped at the feel of his solid chest beneath her hands.

Nothing about Steve Rogers was soft.

“Just get out of here Rogers,” she snapped, fear and anger making her voice harsh. “Just leave her alone-before you hurt her more.”

Steve hesitated, his eyes haunted as the girl’s words struck him. Then he turned and made his way out of the theater, his shoulders stiff under the cold gaze of Anna’s friend.

_Just leave her alone, before you hurt her more._

Before he left though, he turned and glanced over his shoulder. Catrin still stood where he had left her, her arms folded over her chest and a small frown on her brow.

He didn’t notice the uncertainty in her eyes.

All he could think of were her words.

_Just leave her alone, before you hurt her more._

His throat worked as he gathered his courage and as Catrin scowled and took a threatening step forward he choked out, “Just tell her I’m sorry. And that she won’t have to see me again. Tell her…tell her I’m leaving New York.”

And then he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him with an echoing thud.

Catrin stared at it for a moment, a cold shiver darting up her spine at the hopeless finality she had seen in the man’s eyes.

Had she done the right thing here?

As she turned to make her way backstage, she realized she wasn’t sure.

Somehow…

Somehow it felt like she’d just sent a man to his death.

**

Anna was shaking.

Even now, half-an-hour after her number, she shook. Her hands trembled as she unpinned her hair and wiped off her make-up. She knew, if she stood, her knees would buckle under her weight.

She couldn’t stop though.

Something about that number…something about that number had scared her.

Was it the emotion she’d put into it? The pain? The heartbreak?

Or was it something else?

There was something…She remembered turning her gaze out to the audience and feeling…

And feeling Steve.

She froze, her fingers buried in her hair as she struggled to free a bent bobby-pin and she gasped.

Had Steve been at the Alcott tonight?! Had he come to see her perform? Was he still out there, waiting for her?

Before she could think about what she was doing, or even wonder why this realization mattered so much to a woman who had told the man to leave her and her brother alone, she was running from the dressing room, her silver gown streaming behind her.

Her breath was ragged as she spilled onto the stage and her ears pricked at the familiar timbre of Steve Rogers’ voice as he said to Catrin, “…She won’t have to see me again. Tell her…tell her I’m leaving New York.”

Then he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him like a goodbye and she felt her blood run cold.

He was leaving. Leaving New York. Leaving her.

And she wouldn’t see him again.

She wasn’t sure how, but suddenly her hands were tangled in Catrin’s cardigan and she was hissing in her friend’s face, her voice ragged with fear and hysteria, “What did he mean? Where is he going?” Her eyes widened as she saw the guilt in Catrin’s eyes and she gasped as her fingers fell from her friend’s clothes. “ _What did you say to him_?” she hissed, her dark eyes blazing furiously.

Catrin was defensive as she snarled, just as fiercely, “I told him to leave you alone Anna. He’s no good for you-“

“You don’t know anything Catrin,” Anna snapped as she rushed after Steve and out onto the sidewalk in front of the Alcott.

He was leaving. And she would never see him again.

Suddenly, all she wanted to do was fix this disaster. To apologize. To hold him.

To love him.

The wind was cold as it whipped her silver dress around her but she didn’t notice its chill.

All she saw was the single taillight of an antique Indian motorcycle as the bike peeled out of the side alley next to the now empty Alcott, bearing its owner away from her.

“Steve,” she whispered into the wind.

He didn’t come back to her.


	15. The Rubber Match

_Anna_

May the 4th dawned bright and warm. She knew this because she was awake to see the sun break over the glass fronted skyscrapers in the distance. With a soft nicotine tinted exhale she smudged out her very last cigarette in an overflowing saucer and stood stiffly.

Another sleepless night.

Another night thinking of Steve Rogers.

Another night alone.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes. Everything ached and as she stretched and popped her back she couldn't help thinking, _welp, today's gonna suck Adrianna. Better get a Red Bull._

She didn't let herself think about her audition which was going to happen in a few short hours. She didn't let herself think of Steve Rogers. She didn't let herself think of anything.

She left the roof of her building without a backwards glance and made her way down the cold stairwell to the 5th floor. Hesitating outside of 543b she glanced down the hall to 521a and briefly considered waking Anita and talking to her friend about what she should do about Steve Rogers.

She didn't though. She simply unlocked her door and opened it as quietly as she could.

She needn't have bothered. Roberto was already up. But there was no music playing from the beat-up record player in the living room. There were no cartoons on the TV. There was no coffee waiting for her.

Roberto was still mad at her.

She sighed and thought longingly of the convenience store down the road which sold her favorite brand of cigarettes. She could do with one right about now. Even though she'd just finished most of a pack last night.

She stood in the entryway of their apartment and gazed thoughtfully at the kitchen door. Roberto was in there, she could hear him moving around getting his breakfast ready before school.

Should she go in there and talk to him?

Or should she just go to her room and curl up in bed and never emerge from her warm nest of blankets?

Neither appealed.

Another heavy hearted sigh and then she entered the kitchen.

"Hey nerd," she said, inwardly cringing at the false brightness in her voice. "How'd you sleep?"

"Better than you I'd say," he grumbled into his bowl of Lucky Charms. "How many cigarettes did you smoke last night Anna? You smell like a bar."

She froze at his cold voice and tried to come up with a good answer. Ultimately there wasn't one and she sagged into the chair across from him with a grimace.

"'Berto," she said slowly, her hand stretching out to touch his. He jerked back from her, his dark head bowed over his bowl and she shivered. "Roberto, I'm sorry..."

"No you're not," he muttered. "You're pig headed and stubborn and aggravating and-and-"

His face reddened as he ran out of adverbs and Anna's lips twitched in a little smile. Seeing that, he pushed away from the table and away from her.

"Just leave me alone Anna," he shouted as he rushed out of the room.

She sighed as she watched him go and then placed her head in her hands. "Fuck," she whispered. "This sucks."

She had no idea what she was going to do.

When Roberto didn't return she gathered his bowl up and carried it to the sink. She spent way too much time washing it, her eyes glazed as she thought idly of that night in the theater when Steve had left.

She didn't even realize she was doing it.

Finally the bowl was clean and as she placed it in the drying rack she heard Roberto come down the hall. Standing in the doorway of the kitchen she tried to catch hold of him as he passed, but he dodged her fingers, his reflexes far quicker after spending weeks in the gym with Steve Rogers after school than they had ever been before.

"Don't touch me," he snapped, his dark eyes furious.

She raised her hands and nodded. "Okay Roberto," she said softly, her eyes agonized. "I won't."

They stared at each other for a long while, the silence tense between them and then finally she sagged against the doorjamb. Rubbing her face wearily she said, "Remember I have my audition in Manhattan this afternoon. I wrote the address in your dayplanner. I should be home by the time you get home from sch-"

"I'm going to the gym after school," he muttered as he headed for the door.

Anna peeled herself away from the doorjamb and rushed after him. "Roberto!" she snapped as his hand settled on the doorknob. "You can't go to the gym!"

"Why not?" he snapped. "You can do whatever you want. Why can't I?" His cold glare froze her and her hand fell from his shoulder.

"Roberto," she said weakly, "I'm an adult, I'm your guardian, I have to do whatever I want-"

"Oh, so that gave you the right to shut Steve out? To push him away? Even though he was only protecting me?" Roberto shouted, his face twisted into a grimace. "That's not fair Anna and you know it!"

She went cold at the memories of that day outside of the gym and she felt her knees go weak as she remembered Steve's cold eyes and the sound his fist had made when it struck the kid's stomach.

"Roberto I pushed Steve away because he hurt that boy. I pushed him away because I don't think he's safe. He's not...he's not..." she swallowed heavily, tears starting to prick her eyes as she gazed hopelessly at her stone-faced baby brother and realized she'd lost him too. "Steve Rogers isn't human, Roberto," she said weakly, hating herself for the words.

Hating that man for them being true.

Roberto stared at her and then turned on his heel to go. "Yeah, he's not human. He's better than that," he snarled as he threw open the front door. "He actually has a heart."

And then he was gone.

She flinched as the door slammed behind him and flinched again as Mrs. Harris from 431c screamed for them to learn to close their doors politely.

She wasn't sure how long she stood staring at the front door but when she finally snapped back to reality, the sun was fully up and she was on a deadline.

She had an audition to think about, not an angry little brother. And definitely not an abnormal Army veteran.

She had to apply her makeup three times before her tears finally stopped.

* * *

_Steve_

He had a uniform. And the shield.

Somehow, it was comforting to have both. And he would never admit it to Fury, or to Tony Stark, a man he found to be even more egotistical than Howard Stark, if that was possible, but it was good to be back on a team.

Even if this team was slightly dysfunctional.

"What I want to know is how Loki turned two of the sharpest men I know into his own personal flying monkeys," Fury was saying.

Steve's ears pricked at that and when Thor said with a frown, "Monkeys? I do not understand," he had to say something.

"I do!" Catching Natasha's amused glance and Stark's annoyed eye roll he subsided and muttered, "I understood that reference."

It would be the only thing he'd understand the rest of the day.

When Fury and Agent Coulson left the bridge of the Helicarrier (another thing that had, in Roberto's words "blown his mind") he sat for a moment, fiddling with his glove.

There was a part of him that couldn't help feeling a little useless here.

He was just the muscle; he didn't have a weaponized suit with jet engines in its feet. He wasn't a "god" from out of legend who could control the weather. He wasn't a dangerously divided persona like Dr. Banner. He wasn't even a master assassin. He was a man with a shield.

A 94 year old man in a 24 year olds body.

"Captain?" he jumped at Natasha Romanov’s soft voice and glanced up, meeting her dark green eyes.

"Sorry," he murmured as he sat up in his chair. "I was just thinking."

She smiled slightly and then sat down beside him. "I'm sorry we had to bring you into this Captain," she said. "I know how hard this must be for you."

His lips twitched into a ghost of a smile and he glanced around the bustling bridge. "Would you think badly of me, Agent Romanov, if I said I'm just tired?" He glanced at her and sighed, his heavy shoulders rising and falling. "I'm tired of it all."

She was quiet for a moment and then stretched out a hand to catch hold of his. "I get it, Captain," she said with a small smile. "I think of anyone on this ship, these people Fury's thrown together get it better than most." She sighed and brushed her fingers over the table surface, somehow pulling up video footage of their mad prisoner deep in the bowels of the ship and of her partner, the compromised Agent Barton. "I'm tired too," she murmured as she gazed at first the Asgardian and then her partner, who fought at her side in some smoking city.  

They sat together for a few moments, not speaking, just keeping an eye on Loki as he paced slowly about his cage; but their comfortable silence was suddenly broken by Glenn Miller's _In the Mood_  blasting cheerfully from the pocket of Steve's suit.

He jumped and shot an apologetic glance at Natasha who smiled in response. She watched as he stumbled with the phone but as the song started repeating and he still hadn't figured out how to answer, she stretched out her hand, caught the phone from his gloved grasp and slid her finger across the unlock screen.

She caught sight of the name, "Roberto," as she brought it to her ear and she remembered the girl the Captain had settled with after his emerging from the ice had a ward with the same name. Interesting.

"Hello?" she asked, her voice smooth despite her dark humor.

"Anna?!" said a confused voice. "Is that you?"

"Nope," she said. "I'll get you someone you know though, hold on kid." She then thrust the phone out towards Steve who stared at it with horrified eyes. "Take it," she hissed, thrusting the phone once more in his direction. He jumped and then picked the phone up tentatively. She smiled as she stood and clapped him on the shoulder. "You got this Cap," she said as she left the bridge, a small smile on her face as she heard him say a little too loudly, "Hello?"

"Steve?!"

His eyes fluttered closed at Roberto's voice, his heart wrenching at the kids excitement. "Yeah, it's me kid," he muttered as he lowered his head into his free hand. "What's going on?"

A moment of silence and then, "I should ask you the same thing Cap! What are you doing with my sister's phone?"

Steve let out a wry chuckle and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to think of why he did have Anna's phone. He didn't even remember slipping it into the pocket of the suit before departing for Stuttgart.

"It's a long story kid," he said lamely. "Are you okay?" He realized he'd been listening to Roberto's heavy breath for a few moments now; it sounded like the kid was running. "Where are you?" He sat up slowly, his skin crawling at the thought of the kid running around Brooklyn alone, which was ridiculous of course; Roberto Conti wasn't his responsibility. He never would be.

"Uh," Roberto said between breaths. "Uh well I was uh just going to stop by the gym to see if you were there but I found out you're not here. Where are you by the way?"

Steve didn't answer. His eyes narrowed as he stood, the sudden desire to walk and talk hitting him all at once. "Roberto, you're not skipping school are you?" he said, his voice chillingly dangerous. He stepped off the bridge, not even realizing he did so and began wandering the halls of the Helicarrier.

"Wha-skip school? No way! I still have an hour before first bell. I just wanted to stop by and say hello but Joe says you haven't been in for a while. Where are you?"

Steve rolled his eyes and growled into the phone, "You better not skip, Roberto Conti. Your sister will kill you and when I get back I'll kill you and then you'll be in real trouble."

Roberto laughed and in the distance Steve heard a bus coming towards the kid. He relaxed, a small smile twitching his lips as he heard the kid greet the driver cheerfully and swipe his bus pass.

"So you're not in the City then," Roberto said, satisfaction in his voice. "Knew it. You're never _not_ at the gym, Steve."

Steve sighed and glanced around. He was in the science wing. Or what he thought was the science wing. There were an awful lot of laboratories around him filled with equipment he couldn't even begin to understand the use for.

"Yeah, definitely not in the City kid," he said wryly. "Where's Anna?" he asked suddenly as he headed for a lab at the end of the hall; he could see Bruce Banner's purple shirt through the glass panel of the door.

"Anna? She has an audition today with that super famous recording studio. It's somewhere in Manhattan. Near 35th Avenue I think," the kid said. “I was just calling to remind her she has parent-teacher conferences tonight.”

Steve's ears pricked at his disgruntled tone and stopped once more. "Roberto," he said slowly. "You need to stop being mad at her."

The moment the words fell from his lips he knew what he said was true. Roberto was mad at Anna for what had happened that day in the gym. And judging by the uncomfortable silence at the other end of the line, Roberto was feeling bad about his anger.

"But Steve," he said softly, "she hurt you. She overreacted and now you two aren't dating anymore."

Steve flinched at the tears in the kid's voice and sagged against the wall he stood beside, his hand bracing his body as he felt his heart wrench and tear at the Contis' pain.

"Roberto," he said, his voice agonized, "that wasn't Anna. That was me. I scared her and she was right to push me away. She was only looking out for you. You have to understand that and stop being mad at her. Please, for me."

He couldn't stand the thought of Anna losing Roberto as well.

Silence on the other end and then, "All right. I'll try."

Steve sighed at the surrender in the kid's voice and rested his head on the wall. "Thank you Roberto," he muttered.

Roberto paused and Steve heard him rustle around as the bus stopped outside of his school. "Steve?" he asked, his voice plaintive.

"Yeah?" Steve said, his voice ragged as tears pricked his eyes.

"When you come back from wherever you are can you come over and talk to Anna?" He paused and Steve flinched, his mind scrambling to come up with a reason why he shouldn't do as the kid asked. Roberto heard his hesitation and hurried on, "It's just, she hasn't slept for days since you left and she's gone through two packs of cigarettes in like a week which she never does unless she's really stressed or upset and she hasn't sung. Like, at all. Nothing, not even when she's in the shower or cleaning. She's..." he swallowed heavily and Steve flinched again. "She's hurting, I think Cap. So...so if you could come over and I don't know, do something, I think that may help her."

He fell silent and Steve straightened from his slump against the wall, his gaze drifting over the windows of Banner's lab, idly noting Stark and Banner chatting and playing with screens placed haphazardly around the room.

He barely noticed this.

All he could think of were Roberto's words.

_She's hurting I think Cap._

_If you could come over and I don't know, do something._

But what could he do? He wasn't normal. He was a freak. He was nothing special in a truly special way.

"Roberto," he sighed after a moment, his voice cracking on the kid's name. "I-I can't..."

"Yeah. Right, okay," Roberto said, his voice rough and Steve flinched at the tears hidden there. "Whatever. I have to go. Talk to you later Steve."

"Roberto, I-" Steve said, his hand stretching out slightly as if he was trying to catch the kid before he ran away.

It was too late. Roberto had hung up.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he lowered the phone. His finger pressed into the image of a button saying "end" and he sighed.

He'd ended another relationship with that call.

He pocketed the phone, idly zipping the pocket so he wouldn't lose Anna's phone and glanced once more into the lab.

What he saw there, made his heart freeze.

"Have you lost your mind?" he snapped as he rushed into Banner's lab, just in time to see Tony Stark lower a screwdriver from Bruce Banner's side.

Stark was watching the other scientist carefully and he turned to Steve as Banner smirked and continued poking around on a computer screen, and said cheerfully, "Jury's out." Turning back to Banner he continued, wonder in his voice, "You really do have a hold on it don't you?"

Steve scowled and folded his arms before snapping, "Is everything a joke to you?"

Stark smirked. "Funny things are," he said before heading towards his personal suitcase thrown in the corner of Banner's lab and already exploding with more suits than Steve owned.

Steve Rogers didn't think he'd ever get a handle on this side of modern life.

It made him feel unbelievably old.

 


	16. Flash Knockdown

_Roberto_

It had been over a week since he'd seen Steve. When Anna had dragged him from the gym and ordered him to stay away from the Captain and Big Joe's he'd just thought she was being weird because she'd seen Steve KO that punk Smithe.

But this was not normal Anna weirdness.

For one thing she had locked herself in her room that night and cried.

Anna never cried. Never. Not even when their parents had died.

She had too much backbone for that, Big Joe would have said.

For another thing, she refused to sing.

This, more than the crying, set Roberto on edge. Anna was always singing; there was always some sort of music going, either from the stereo or from her keyboard as she stumbled over notes of a song she hoped to sing for Birdy; her voice had been the one constant in his life for the past 2 years. When she was home he could always count on Anna crooning a ballad or belting a show-tune.

She’d been the soundtrack of his life since their parents had died.

But in the week since she had run away from Steve, the apartment had been silent. Eerily silent. Anna moved around the place like a ghost when she was home and Roberto didn't know how to fix her.

Not that he'd wanted to. He'd been furious with her, for ordering him to stay home and to stay away from Steve Rogers. She had no right, he'd thought. She had refused to listen to him as he tried to tell her what had led to the fight but she'd only shaken her head, handed him a prayer book and a Rosary and said sadly, "You turn the other cheek baby, when someone hurts you. You know that. I should have put a stop to this a long time ago."

And then she had slipped out the front door, her pocket stuffed with cigarettes and Kleenex.

Roberto didn't see much of her when she was home from work.

Which just made him angrier.

Now, though, he was regretting his cruel words and sour attitude.

And prayer hadn't led to this sudden guilt.

It was Steve.

It was always Steve.

He was a better man than most Roberto had met. Which was why this hurt so much.

 _She was looking out for you_ , he'd said.

 _You have to stop being mad at her_ , he'd said.

Roberto stared out of his Social Studies windows and sighed.

His words, the words he'd said to Anna before leaving the apartment, came back to him and he groaned as he buried his face in his hands. He'd been such a jerk. No wonder Anna was upset; she'd lost Steve and she'd lost him.

 _Yeah, he's not human. He's better than that. He has a heart_ , he'd said.

He'd tossed those words in Anna's face without thought. What had he done to her?

Had he broken her heart even more?

"Mister Conti, do you need to go to the nurse?"

He jumped at Sister Williams' voice and sat up slowly. "Sorry Sister," he muttered, his cheeks darkening slightly as his classmates stared at him. "I just have a really bad stomach ache."

His social studies teacher gazed at him thoughtfully, taking in his darker than normal eyes and pale cheeks with bright spots of color and nodded. "Very well young man," she said as she bent over her desk and scribbled a note for him to take to the nurse. "Go to the nurse and call your sister. You really don't look well."

Roberto didn't protest, simply took the slip and headed down the hall towards the nurse's office.

He'd call Anita. She'd come and get him.

Half-an-hour later, after a stop at McDonald's for Happy Meals for the twins, himself and his sister's friend, they were heading home when there was a blast in the direction of Manhattan and quite literally all hell broke loose.

As they pulled up to their apartment complex and he and Anita scrambled from the car to see the sky over Midtown split open under a blue column of light twisting upwards from one of the distant skyscrapers, the first thing Roberto Conti thought was:

"Where's the Captain?"

The next thought he had was, "Anna's in Midtown. She's going to be in the heart of that."

He reached for his phone to call her before remembering.

He couldn't call her because Steve had her phone.

So he called Steve.

* * *

_Anna_

She was given two songs to sing. They gave her half-an-hour to practice with their studio accompanist.

She didn't need that half hour.

Both songs were in her repertoire. She usually sang them at the end of a quiet night, when the Alcott audience was already mellow.

They were two of her favorites.

So she was able to skate through the audition.

As she sang into the studio mike she closed her eyes and tried to keep from crying. It had to be these songs, she thought. Had to be these two.

Somehow, they always reminded her of Steve.

 _I could tell by his face - those two tired eyes_ , she murmured, emotion twisting her voice as two ice blue eyes came to mind. Two shadowed eyes.  
 _It's been a long night searching for grace, now the sun won't rise_  
 _Now I have been here before though I know I am lost_  
 _'cause the same place that filled me with joy is just a road I crossed_  
 _Just a road I crossed_

As she finished the Hem song and listened to the producers, director for the film she was auditioning for and the spoken talent for the character she would possibly provide a singing voice for, she couldn't help thinking of the words she'd just sung.

"The same place that filled me with joy is just a road I crossed," she whispered, a single tear sliding down her cheek as she remembered that week of nights of sleeping in Steve's arms. It had been so safe, so warm in his embrace.

And old-fashioned, upright Steve had allowed the contact. Had enjoyed it.

He'd been safe too, that week. Safe in her arms.

"Miss Conti?"

She jumped at the sharp voice coming in over her head set and waved guiltily. "Sorry, sorry! Got lost in my thoughts! Do you need me to do it again?"

She could see all four people she was auditioning for watching her thoughtfully and she sighed internally. She knew those looks...

"No Miss Conti, that was perfect the way it was. Could you do the next number please?"

The director smiled, his green eyes sparkling and she relaxed slightly. She had liked him right off when he'd introduced himself and the dainty actress she should have recognized from Anita's tabloids but couldn't.

Maybe if she hadn't been operating on 2 hours of sleep and a dangerous amount of caffeine she would have been able to recall the name.

"Sure Mr. Bird," she said as she glanced at the accompanist who was definitely not Mike and she flipped open the folder holding the second song. "Do you want me to sing the entire number?" she asked.

All of them agreed, the dainty actress the loudest amongst them and she sighed.

This one really reminded her of Steve.

"When you're ready," she said to the accompanist. He nodded and after a moment began to play.

She eased into the song like a diver into a pool of clear water, her eyes closing and her body yearning towards the microphone.

She imagined Steve sitting before her and tried to keep from crying.

_I can't help but wonder why_   
_You can't help but cross my mind_   
_And I'm thinking of you (thinking of you)_

_Hope one day it all be clear_   
_I'll be there or you'll be here_   
_I'll be talking with you (long talks with you)_

Glancing at the group in the sound booth, she leapt into the chorus, her body swaying slightly with the words and she smiled slightly. She suddenly wanted to sing this song for Steve.

Maybe she would, one day.

_Under streetlights_   
_On long car rides_   
_I can't forget your eyes_   
_Through the dark nights_   
_Two hours till sunrise_   
_I can't forget your eyes_

_Through the years and through the miles_   
_I just want to see you smile_   
_And be happy with you (happy with you)_

_I think somehow we could always see_   
_It'd end up being you and me_   
_Me and you (just me and you)_

She smiled at the end of the song and chuckled as the accompanist stretched his fist out for her to bump. "Nice job sweetheart," he said. "Best voice I've heard here in a while."

"Thanks," she said. "You're a great accompanist."

He waved her words away and left the studio. She waited, the headphones half on and half off and she couldn't help glancing into the booth.

There was some heavy discussion going on in there and she shook her head. Before she could set the headphones aside and gather her stuff up a voice said over the headset, "Miss Conti, could you come up here please?"

She paused and frowned. This was new. She'd never been asked into the booth after an audition of this caliber.

Was that good? Or bad?

Swallowing heavily, she gathered her purse and cardigan up and made her way through the studio to the stairs at the back of the room.

When she entered the booth she was greeted with silence and then the petite actress threw herself across the room and wrapped her arms around Anna's neck.

"You're going to be my singing voice Adrianna! Isn't that wonderful?"

All Anna could do was gape.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur as she discussed the hiring process both with the producers and with the director.

She was stunned to find out they'd essentially hired her the night in the Alcott.

Her voice was exactly what they needed for their animated feature.

As she spilled onto the sidewalk lining 35th street nearly an hour later, she laughed and spun in a small circle. Tangling her hands in her dark hair as she turned her face to the sun she realized she needed to tell somebody about this latest development.

She headed up 35th towards the Empire State building and started to dig in her purse.

She'd gone almost half a block before she remembered she didn't have her phone.

And even if she had had it, she wouldn't have been able to call Steve anyway.

Before she could reflect on why she even wanted to call him, there was a blast and the ground beneath her feet rocked.

She barely registered the sky above her opening before all hell broke loose.

As she and all of Midtown watched the sky roil, she realized something.

She could have really done with one last hug from Steve Rogers before dying.

* * *

_Steve_

His pocket was vibrating again.

Glancing at the two SHIELD agents at the front of the Quinjet, he unzipped his hip pocket and eased the phone out.

Roberto's name was on the screen, as well as a picture of the kid playing the piano with Mike under a spotlight.

Steve sighed and mimicked the motion Natasha had made when the phone rang for the first time. There was a cheerful click and then Roberto was shouting.

"Steve! Steve are you there? Answer me Cap!"

Steve cringed at the kid's panic and raised the phone to his ear. "Easy Roberto, easy," he said, his voice calm despite the panic he himself was feeling. "What's going on? Where are you?"

Please let the kid be home, he thought to himself. Please let him and Anna be safe.

He breathed a sigh of relief, almost collapsing against the jet's bulkhead as the kid said, "I'm at the apartment with Anita. Steve something's happening in the City! They're saying on the news that terrorists are attacking Midtown but these guys don't look like terrorists! They're in flying chariots and there's a blue light coming from Stark Tower and Iron Man has been spotted and they're saying Tony Stark is causing this-"

Steve held the phone away from his ear but at the mention of Stark he clapped it back to his ear and almost shouted to get the kid's attention, "Roberto! Listen to me and listen well! It's not safe to leave Brooklyn right now. You stay with Anita and the twins. But if it looks like this is spreading out of Manhattan you get her and the kids into the car and get out of the City, do you hear me?"

There was a pause and then, "Steve, what's going on?"

His eyes fluttered closed at the terror in the kid's voice and he sighed. "I don't know Roberto. All I know is its not safe in Manhattan right now. There are people coming to take care of it, okay? But I want you to keep an eye out. If it looks like Manhattan is going to fall you leave, all right? No questions asked, get the girls and the babies out." He paused his heart freezing as he forced the next words out of his mouth. "Roberto, where's Anna."

It was quiet on the other end of the line and Steve swore his heart stopped at the implications of what that silence met.

Suddenly he remembered his earlier conversation with the kid.

_Anna has that audtion in Manhattan today. Somewhere near 35th Avenue..._

His eyes rose to the windshield of the jet and he groaned at the sight of the embattled City on the horizon.

He could see the column of blue energy blasting from the roof of Stark's Tower, even from here.

Loki was near 35th Avenue too...

"Roberto, where is she?" he asked, his voice chillingly quiet. He didn't see the worried glance Natasha shot him. All he saw was that column of energy. And Loki, smirking in this cage.

If Anna got hurt...

It would be his fault.

He was so lost to his terrified anger he almost missed the kid saying, "Anna's still in Manhattan Steve. She's in Midtown..."

Steve didn't get a chance to reassure Roberto.

As the plane banked suddenly, barely missing hitting a corner of a towering skyscraper, the phone slipped from his hand and went flying to smash against the opposite wall.

It shattered and he sighed. Natasha glanced at him over her shoulder and smirked as he bent to grab the phone. "They don't make them like they used to, do they Captain?"

He didn't answer, simply gathered up the pieces and stuffed them in his pocket.

It was still Anna's phone.

He'd find a way to return it to her.

He would.

"Get us to the Tower," he snapped, once more assuming the role of the calm leader. Both agents nodded and Barton turned the jet skillfully.

Neither noticed his panic.

There was no reason they needed to know his heart was frozen and his mind was more focused on his girl who may be trapped in the burning streets of Midtown than the madman currently bent on the destruction of humanity.

He was Captain America.

He couldn't help Anna as Steve Rogers.


	17. TKFO'd

_Anna_

She was stuck in Midtown.

Her heart hammering, she slid around a corner of a bank with blown windows and a shattered marble facade and tried to come up with a plan.

She'd tried the subway twice now but the trains had stopped with the attacks. The police had shuffled them into the stations but with no trains, they were just as trapped as they had been up on the streets.

So she'd decided to take her chances top side.

If all else failed she could always hotwire a car and try to make it to Brooklyn Bridge.

Even on a normal day, her luck wouldn't be that good, though.

She sighed and glanced up and down the street. After the initial outpouring of those...things...from above Stark Tower the attack had centered around that building and 35th Avenue. 33rd was quiet almost, still, as if holding its breath while waiting to see if the crazed axe-man would find it behind the shower curtain.

Smiling grimly, she rushed across the street to a relatively intact Starbucks; it was still open. But no one was getting coffee. Glancing over her shoulder, she shivered absently at the sight of Stark Tower burning, and ducked into the coffee shop.

The shop was empty; everywhere were fallen green and white cups and patron's belongings. She glanced around, quickly taking stock of the situation before moving deeper into the shop. She ducked around the counter, just to make sure no one was hiding there and then kicked the kitchen doors open.

Empty.

Everyone had left.

Sighing, she collapsed into a chair and propped her right foot onto the table. Grimacing at the sight of a nasty scrape she'd received from falling across the pavement when the sky exploded overhead, she grabbed a handful of napkins from the table next to her and busied with mopping up the blood.

She barely noticed the TV showing footage of the attack currently taking place just 2 blocks over. She was more focused on trying to find a way out of this shit-show.

The talking head on the TV was saying, "We've had several confirmed sightings of Tony Stark's Iron Man Suit flying over Midtown and while it seems this attack coalesced upon the roof of Stark Tower, we do not believe Mr. Stark is the instigator of this." Thre was a pause where he touched his ear and ducked his head as if listening to someone shouting incoherently in his ear and then he gasped.

"Rich, Rich, get the cameraman to 34th Street!"

He turned back to the studio camera and as the footage behind him jumped and jiggered with the on-sight cameraman's running he said, "I'm sorry for that but it seems we have had a confirmed sighting of the special ops team fighting against these supposed extraterrestrials. Our field reporter is there now. Clarice?"

Anna glanced up, a small frown on her face as a young woman appeared before the field camera. She was dressed in a Kevlar vest, helmet and safety goggles. Behind her Anna could just barely see three people battling upon a slender bridge stretching between 34th and 35th.

"Hello Anderson," Clarice said breathlessly. "As you can see, it is sheer pandemonium here; there are creatures we haven't identified yet flying over head and I've only just gotten clearance from the military..."

Anna's eyes narrowed and she stood slowly, her gaze captured by the man in red, white and blue. The young reporter was chattering excitedly into her mike but Anna didn't pay any attention to what she was saying about FBI agents and specialists from international espionage agencies.

All of her attention was focused on the soldier holding a shield and wearing a silver a star on his chest.

Where had she seen that star and shield before?

The camera zoomed on the three people fighting against impossible odds at the base of Stark Tower and Anna gasped as the man holding the shield glanced in her direction and ran his hand over his cowled head.

She knew him...

Suddenly the Starbucks door was thrown open and a voice snapped, "Lady! You have to get out of here!"

She turned as four NYPD officers hurried towards her and gasped, "That's him!" She pointed at the TV and the first officer hesitated, his eyes flashing to the screen and back to the bedraggled and scraped woman standing before him.

He sighed at the slightly hysterical look on her face and caught a hold of her wrist. "Yeah, it's him lady, now let's go. We're evacuating this section of Midtown. Now come on."

He pulled her gently towards his partners who were busy keeping an eye out lest the terrorists come back to this block but Anna wrenched her arm free.

"I can't go!" she gasped, planting her feet firmly on the dirty tiles of the Starbucks. The cops turned to her and she shook her head. "I can't go! He's here and I have to go to him!"

She started to push past the officers but they caught hold of her and proceeded to pull her onto the street. "Come on lady, don't fight us on this. We need to get as many people out of Manhattan before this gets any worse."

She fought against them but when one of the officers knocked her feet out from under her and caught her smoothly into his arms she realized she wouldn't be able to fight this. She went limp in the cop's arms as he hurried towards a squad car parked much too close to a fire hydrant to be legal she whimpered and glanced over her shoulder towards the still burning Stark Tower.

He was there...

Fighting against aliens.

Fighting to save the City.

 _I'm not normal,_ he'd said.

_I'm not human._

Well, he'd certainly been telling the truth, hadn't he?

"Steve," she whispered as the cop set her carefully in the back seat of his squad car next to a sobbing woman and her two children. Her fingers stretched agains the window as the car pulled away from the curb and she didn't realize she was crying until they were nearly a block away and she could no longer see the Empire State Building or Stark Tower. She sobbed brokenly, curling into herself as his words echoed in the back of her head.

I'm not human.

And then she was taken away from Manhattan.

An hour later she was escorted up her building's stairs, the cop's arm around her waist as she stumbled weakly up the steps.

Realizing she didn't have her purse and thus no keys, the cop sighed, tucked her more firmly in his arm and knocked.

There was a slight scuffle on the other side and then the door was thrown open to reveal a wide eyed Roberto Conti armed with a signed Yankee's baseball bat and a aersol can of Mace. The cop and the kid stared at each other for a moment and then Anna let out a soft chuckle.

"At ease soldier," she murmured as she slid free of the cop to stumble into her apartment.

Roberto stared first at her and then the cop who smiled wearily and tipped his hat. "Gotta jet kid. Keep your sister safe, wouldja?"

Roberto nodded, still shocked and then the cop was gone, bounding down the stairs toward his cop car.

"Anna?" he asked weakly as she limped down the front hall towards the living room. "Are you okay?"

She didn't answer, just sagged onto the couch. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the TV where they were showing over and over the fall of one of the scaly sea turtle things from apparently outer space, across the roof of the Baxter Building.

She grabbed the remote and switched to another national news channel. She froze as footage of the blue suited soldier was flashed across the screen and she muted it. Roberto froze, his eyes locked on the man in a red, white and blue uniform currently battling side-by-side with a red headed woman in tight black spandex and he jumped when she asked, her voice hoarse, "Is that him, 'Berto?"

He glanced at her and she stood slowly, her eyes blazing. "Is. That. Him."

He didn't ask 'who.' He didn't laugh her words away. He didn't call her crazy.

He only nodded.

And Anna collapsed.

* * *

_Steve_

SHIELD was sending a missile to blow up Manhattan.

Steve felt his blood freeze at Stark's panicked voice in his ear and he snapped for Natasha to wait before shutting the portal.

The blood rushed in his ears as he listened to Stark's thrusters blast overhead and he felt inexplicable sadness fill him as he and Thor watched Stark carry the missile towards the portal Loki had opened with the Tesseract.

 _Take off the Suit and what are you?_ he'd asked Stark back on the Helicarrier, his voice hard as he remembered Anna's words in front of the gym.

 _You're not normal_ , she'd said.

 _You're not the one to make the sacrifice play,_ he'd said to Stark, cold memories of his friends dying at his side washing over him.

Well, he'd been wrong, hadn't he?

"Stark, you know that's a one-way trip," he said, his voice gentle despite the agony he was feeling.

He'd been so wrong. About all of them.

They weren't normal. But that didn't mean they were wrong.

It just meant they had more to lose.

His blue eyes were shadowed as he tracked Stark's progress and he rested his hand on the hidden comm unit tucked away in his ear. Absently he listened to Natasha praying in softly accented Russian and Barton singing a cheerful song about a piano player as he scavenged arrows and made his slow way towards Stark Tower where the Hulk had Loki neutralized according to Stark and his Tower's remaining security cameras.

Somehow, the two agent's quiet voices provided peace as they all watched Stark make his sacrifice play.

Thor was quiet beside him, his hand pressed firmly to his wounded side and he started to sing softly under his breath, a slow, dirge like song Steve could not understand.

He didn't have to ask what the god was singing.

He'd been to enough funerals in his lifetime.

Suddenly, just as Steve was certain the nuke would blow before Stark could get it through the portal, he was through and they nearly lost sight of him.

He was just a tiny speck now.

They didn't miss the dull, echoing blast that rocked the City around them a few moments later. Suddenly, inexplicably, the monsters still swarming the City, Loki's hideous otherworldly army, keeled to the ground as one, dead.

Steve and Thor didn't move from their dirt choked section of street, even when SHIELD agents began to cheer and scream over the comm unit in their ears.

"Come on Stark," he heard Natasha whisper, her voice pleading and broken through the cheers back on the Helicarrier. "One more time, you ass. Come on."

Steve cut the feed and snapped, his voice harsh with grief, "CLOSE IT. "

He didn't have to look up to know Natasha would do it.

A moment later Thor gasped and began to spin his hammer. "He is not slowing down," the god snarled, his deep voice trembling through the soles of Steve's boots.

He glanced up, his heart leaping into his throat as he caught sight of a scarlet and gold figure tumbling through the sky towards the battered streets they stood on.

Before Thor could act, there was a bone chilling roar and the sound of cracking marble as the Hulk threw himself from a building beside which Steve and Thor stood to snatch Iron Man's limp body out of the air like an outfielder catching a home-run.

Steve and Thor retreated a step as Banner's green alter-ego, bearing the very still body of Tony Stark, plummeted towards the ground and Steve flinched as the Hulk landed atop a still relatively intact car parked in the middle of the street.

As he and Thor rushed towards them, the Hulk sat up and tossed Stark's body aside with a snarl. Steve couldn't help smiling as he fell to his knees beside Stark's body; hopelessly, he gazed at Stark and tried to figure out how to remove the battered and scraped suit from the man's limbs.

Thor simply yanked the face plate off of the suit's helmet.

All three stared at Stark, unsure of what to do next. Steve knew nothing of the suit or the now-dark blue circle of light set in its chest that kept Stark's heart beating.

Seeing it now he wondered how long Stark could survive without the arc reactor.

Suddenly, just when Steve was sure they'd have to wait for SHIELD medics to arrive on the scene, the Hulk bent over Stark's sprawled form and roared.

Steve's teeth clashed together at the sound as he rocked back on his heels and Thor chuckled, a smile suddenly appearing on his lips.

"Easy brother," he murmured as he clapped a hand to the Hulk's massive green bicep.

They all jumped when Stark suddenly gasped, his back arching off of the ground. He coughed and sputtered breathlessly as his fist clapped agains the now glowing arc in his chest and he turned his head in Steve's direction, gasping, "Wha-what happened? Oh please tell me nobody kissed me."

Steve sighed and started to laugh as he rested his head against the edge of his shield.

Then turning his eyes to his team he said, wonder and relief in his voice, "We won."

They had won. They had defeated a crazed god bent on revenge.

Just like the old days.

A while later, he was standing in the broken remains of the Stark Tower entryway, watching SHIELD and Thor lead away a shackled and gagged Loki, when Stark sidled up to him.

"So...we should get shawarma," Stark said with a small smile on his face. He'd finally taken the suit off once it was certain Loki couldn't do anything and Steve winced in sympathy at the bruises and scrapes darkening the other man's skin.

He suspected his own body looked much the same under his suit.

But not for long. This time tomorrow his body would be back to normal.

Just another gift from Dr. Erskine, he mused, as he turned his gaze back the SHIELD agents surrounding Loki.

"No," he said softly, bending to lift his shield once more into his arms. "Maybe next time Stark. I have to go to Brooklyn."

Stark's eyebrow quirked and he snorted as he watched the Captain fiddle with the buckles on the shield. "Brooklyn? What's in Brooklyn?"

Steve hesitated, wondering if he should tell this man who he was hoping to find there and then he sighed. They were on the same team now. He could trust Tony Stark.

"My girl's in Brooklyn," he said slowly, a small smile lifting his lips and Stark froze at the sight.

He cocked his head and his eyes narrowed in consideration. Suddenly Captain America didn't seem quite so icy to him. The man's eyes were practically sparkling.

"A girl, huh?" he mused. "Well," he dug in his pockets for a moment and then removed a tiny silver key attached to a keychain shaped like a Harley motorcycle. "The garage survived Loki's tantrum," he said as he fiddled with the key. Glancing at Steve, he grinned a crooked grin and tossed the key at the other man, who caught it smoothly, shock on his face. "Just fill her up when you bring her back."

Steve's eyes were wide as he watched Stark bound down the stairs of his Tower, his hands shoved in his pockets, and summon the other Avengers.

Then, as they piled into a SHIELD issued black sedan, Steve turned to make his way to the underground garage under Stark Tower and the bike on loan from Howard Stark's son.

More memories assaulted him as he slung his shield across his back and started the bike in one smooth motiion.

Just like the old days.

Driving through the smoldering remains of a battered city, heading back to camp and the girl he could barely understand his feelings for, his team off to celebrate a victory that could only be described as having been won by the skin of their teeth.

So many memories...

Somehow he got off of the island and into Brooklyn. Thankfully, SHIELD was more focused on trying to contain the aftermath of Loki's attack so they didn't have time to focus on one lone super soldier. Which made Steve's biggest concerns traffic as the bridges leading off of Manhattan opened and thousands of New York City citizens made an escape from Midtown.

He suspected Times Square would be pretty quiet for the next few days.

Finally he was on Anna's street. It was dark now, something he was grateful for; it had been uncomfortable riding the bike through traffic in just his uniform. But he hadn't wanted to wait for SHIELD clearance to reclaim his belongings.

He had to find Anna.

He had to make sure she was okay.

He had to know she had gotten out of Midtown in time.

If she hadn't...

He'd have to ask Thor what was the best way to kill a god.

He slipped through the front door of her building and made his way slowly up the stairs. Every muscle and every bone in his body ached and by the time he got to the 5th floor he was actually panting.

Had there always been this many stairs before this?

The shield was heavy on his back and he shrugged as he reached the 5th floor landing, trying uncuccessfully to ease the pressure of the straps across his shoulders. A small part of him hoped Anna had kept some of his spare clothes from a couple weeks ago when Roberto had gotten sick.

Finally he was at her door. He gazed blankly at the gold number 543b but didn't knock. Instead he stretched his hand out to rest on the cool wood and he sighed.

What was he going to tell her?

Was she going to believe anything he had to say?

Or was she simply going to slam the door in his face?

Before he could turn-tail and run, he knocked.

The soft knocking was loud in the hall and he jumped, his nerves already stretched thin. His ears pricked at the sound of running feet on the other side of the door and his eyes closed, a small smile lifting his lips at the familiar sound.

Then, the door was thrown open and Roberto gasped, "Steve!"

Before he could say hello or even stretch out a hand to ruffle the kid's hair, she was there.

Steve's eyes rose slowly to meet her gaze and he shivered at the dark emotion swirling in the depths of her eyes.

"Hi," he said weakly as his shield finally slid from his shoulder; before he could catch it, his knees gave out from under him and his vision spun sickeningly. He was distantly aware of the dull vibrations the Vibranium shield caused as it struck 543's threshold.

She caught him, her hands resting on his chest and waist and all he could smell was her shampoo and that particular spicy scent that was all Adrianna Conti.

Her dark eyes met his as she led him into the apartment and he shivered at the humor there. "Hi, yourself," she said as he stretched out a hand to twist a damp curl behind her ear. "You've got some explaining to do, big man."

Her soft chuckle raised the fine hairs on the back of his neck and he sighed as she finally eased him onto her bed. He didin't protest as she forced him to lie back; he just watched her as she leaned over him and smoothed his hair out of his eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered as she sat beside him, her hip pressing against his own.

He snorted as her hand smoothed once more over his cheek and he closed his eyes, saying, "Why didn't I tell you that I'm a super soldier who crashed a plane in 1943 only to reemerge 70 years later unaged but undoubtedly scarred? Huh, don't know."

She was still and he glanced away from her, not wanting to see the distrust and hurt in her eyes.

Finally, after a moment, she smacked his chest lightly; he glanced at her in surprise and she smirked. "Well, older than my grandfather, god rest his soul, you may be, that doesn't change the fact that I'm still mad at you," she muttered as she stood. He started to sit up but she pushed him back. "Uh-uh. You stay there. I think I can manage these buckles and zippers."

Her eyes were sparkling cheerfully as she bent over his feet and he shivered.

"Anna..." he said slowly as her fingers unsnapped buckle after buckle around his calf.

She glanced at him and shook her head. "Don't worry Captain America," she muttered as she eased first one boot and then another off of his aching feet. "I won't damage such a pillar of patriotism."

His eyes widened as the name slipped from her lips and she paused, her head cocked as she considered him. "You know," she said slowly as she set aside his boots and moved towards his chest. "Roberto suspected you weren't all you said you were."

He smiled wryly as she knelt beside him and stretched out her fingers to unbutton and unzip the heavy scales of his uniform. "I'm not surprised," he muttered as she worked on the uniform.  "That kid brother of yours is too smart for his own good."  

His poor attempt at humor went unnoticed and he didn't miss her horrified gasp as she peeled the outershell of his suit away from his chest to reveal the gruesome cut he'd received from one of the Chitauri drones.  "Oh Steve," she whispered as he eased his arms out of the scales carefully, painfully.  Her fingers trailed down his chest to brush lightly against the cut and he hissed.  She yanked her fingers away with a muttered apology and busied herself with the buckles on his gloves.

Finally, after a few moments of silence as she bowed her head over him and hummed distractedly a song he recognized from her repertoire, the upper half of his uniform and his gloves and gauntlets were tossed across his boots and he collapsed agains the bed with a grunt.  

He opened her mouth to say something but she stopped him and sighed. "I just wish you had been honest with me, Steve," she whispered as she raised her head to meet his gaze. "I wish you had trusted me."

She started to rise but he caught her hand and gripped her fingers gently, ignoring the little flinch he saw flash across her face.

"Anna," he whispered, his eyes pleading. "I didn't want to tell you because..." he paused and sensing her distress stretched his other hand stiffly across his chest to stroke her cheek with the back of his bruised fingers. "I only wanted to have a normal life Anna. After I fell into the ice and then came back...that's all I ever wanted and you and Roberto gave me that." He sighed at the sight of the tears in her eyes; he sat up carefully before gathering both of his hands in his and then, pressing his forehead to hers, he murmured, "You two were my salvation Anna."

They stared at each other for a long while, brown eyes locked with blue and Steve felt his body ease in her presence, just like it always had.

"You are my salvation," he whispered as he cradled her face gently between his hands and lifted her chin so he could press a tender kiss to her lips.

Her eyelids fluttered closed and she sighed against his touch as her hands rose to cup his.

"And you were mine, Steve Rogers," she whispered back, her heart hammering as she let herself say the words.

They held each other thus for an interminable amount of time and it seemed as if nothing had come between them.


	18. The Clinch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting close to the end guys. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading. 
> 
> It means a lot. 
> 
> I'm going to try to finish this before the week is out, so keep your eyes peeled. 
> 
> -M

The shower was steaming the mirror but Steve didn't have the energy to either wipe the glass down or to step under the water.

He simply bowed his head over the sink and waited for his body to stop shaking.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been here, letting his body finally react to the stress he'd put it through over the past three days, but judging by the moisture gathering on his skin and the tightness in his chest it had been a while.

As a sharp pain, the likes of which he hadn't felt since the early days after Project: Rebirth, ripped up his legs to settle in his hips and lower back, his breath hissed out between clenched teeth.

He needed food. He could barely remember the last time he'd eaten. He'd had more important things on his mind than food but now it was catching up with him. His body felt like it was shutting down.

And he needed sleep.

He might even need that more than food, at this point.

He was so focused on keeping his body functioning, he almost missed the quiet knock on the door. When Anna poked her head around the doorframe and caught sight of him standing in his skivvies shaking, she took one look at him, placed a plate piled high with turkey and Havarti sandwiches down on the sink and caught him about the waist and led him to the toilet.

"Sit down," she murmured as she smoothed his damp and still dirty hair out of his eyes. She then reached over, flicked on the bathroom fan to get rid of some of the steam and grabbed a sandwich. Thrusting that into his shaking and bruised hands she turned him slightly and placed her cool hands on his tense shoulders.

"Relax," she whispered in his ear as her fingers started to ease the tight muscles of his neck. "And eat," she said, laughter in her voice as she caught sight of him staring at his sandwich.

"Yes ma'am," he said as he executed a salute and she laughed, her lips still close to his ear. He shivered but focused on the sandwich she had made for him. Taking the first bite was sheer heaven. He sighed as the sharp cheese and mild turkey hit his tongue and his head fell back on his shoulders in sheer bliss as he swallowed. "Oh God," he murmured through a second mouthful, "that is good."

Her soft chuckle washed over him as her fingers drifted from his neck to his shoulders and then to his biceps, all the while working out the knots and kinks stress and hard labor had wreaked in the deep muscles of his body.

This was another form of bliss, her touch on his skin.

He loved it.

By the time he'd finished the plate of sandwiches his body was limp, the muscles in his back and arms loose and relaxed. She leaned over his shoulder, her dark hair falling forward to shade half of her face and she smiled. "Better?"

He couldn't speak, only nodded.

As she helped him up he stumbled and yawned. He was exhausted and now that his stomach was full and some of the tension had been eased out of his body, all he wanted to do was sleep.

Anna glanced up at him as he sagged against the frosted glass shower door and sighed. His eyes were cloudy with exhaustion but he was still coated in the filth of the battle. Making a decision he would probably balk at, she took a step back and began to strip.

Steve glanced up at the sound of her shirt falling to the ground and straightened quickly, a flush on his cheeks.

"Anna!" he gasped, "what are you doing?"

She ignored him and immediately began unbuttoning her jeans. His hands stopped her of their own volition and they froze as she turned her gaze to his. He didn't miss the dark desire in her gaze at his touch.

It didn't help matters for him either, his hands on her hands, several fingers pressing against her hips. Her skin was like velvet...

"Anna," he said slowly, carefully, "I can shower on my own."

Her eyebrow quirked and she snorted gently. "Yeah right Steve," she murmured as she pushed his warm hands aside and finished undoing the clasps on her jeans. "You're dead on your feet and neither of us want you sleeping in that purple goo coating your hair and neck."

The sound of her jeans hitting the floor was very loud in the suddenly quiet bathroom and all Steve could do was stare at her smooth belly and soft curves.

Before he could stop himself his hand stretched out to brush the tiny music note tattoo nestled along her hipbone and his breath hissed once more as his jaw clenched, this time from fighting desire than crippling pain.

"Steve," she whispered as his fingers trailed over her skin, "please..."

He yanked his hand away from her and took a step back. "I'm sorry," he choked, "that was rude."

Then he stepped into the shower before Anna could even respond. She watched him for a moment through the frosted glass of the shower door, wondering if she should leave, but when he staggered and nearly collapsed against the shower wall, she sighed and slid into the shower as well, still wearing her utilitarian black bra and panties.

"All right," she said, her tone all business. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Steve gazed at her wearily, not sure if he should fight this or just let her have her way. A part of him wanted to push her away before he hurt her again...

But the rest of him?

His lips twitched in a small smile as she gathered her dark hair up into a bun to keep it out of the steady water pouring down around his shoulders. She'd missed some, and the feathered curls stuck to her cheeks and neck as the steaming water pearled against her skin.

She raised her eyes to his, suddenly shy her close proximity to him and she cleared her throat. "Erm," she said slowly as drifted closer, "we should wash your hair first."

There was a bare inch of space between them now and Steve's skin twitched as her breasts brushed against his chest.

"Anna..." he ground out, his eyes fluttering closed when she reached around him for a bottle of shampoo. He tried to ignore the damp fabric of her bra brushing his elbow but it felt as if his nerves were on fire.

Anna's throat worked as she straightened and caught sight of him leaning weakly against the wall, his fingers digging into the grout of the tiles as if that were the only thing keeping him upright.

Maybe it was.

"Steve," she murmured, her voice gentle, patient. "Hold your hand out."

He didn't; every muscle in his body was trembling, twitching, in her presence and when she sighed and her breath washed over him, he almost swept her into his arms then and there.

He didn't get a chance. Suddenly she was on her tiptoes, her body intoxicatingly close to his now, and her fingers were working eucalyptus scented soap into his hair.

It was her scent, he realized as the sharp fragrance drifted around them. He inhaled deeply and opened his eyes to gaze into hers. Without knowing he did so, his hands rose to cup her waist and he pulled her closer to him, his nose flaring as her warm scent washed over him. Anna gasped, her lips parting as her hips brushed his and she shivered as the water, now deflected by his broad shoulders and bowed head, misted over her, causing beads to gather in her hair.

"Steve," she whispered as he ducked his head down towards her chest, "you're getting me all wet."

He didn't answer, just rested his lips rested against her collarbones and let his tongue trail the delicate swirls of her collar; she shuddered as he sucked away the water gathered there and her hands trailed slowly from his hair to the back of his neck.

Steve sighed, his body heaving under her hands and she chuckled as his head sagged against her chest. "Come on Captain," she murmured as his fingers trailed over her skin. "You're going to get soap in your eyes." She lifted his chin and smiled gently when he turned now dark blue eyes to hers. "You okay?" she whispered.

He shook his head. "No," he whispered back, "I'm not. I...I want you Anna..."

Her gasp was stifled by his lips as suddenly he was kissing her, fiercely, his lips sucking and biting against her own and she felt her knees buckle as his hands slid down her back to her butt. "Steve," she whispered weakly as he gathered her into her arms. Her toes had left the rubber bath mat and her fingers gripped his shoulders as he dragged her up his chest.

She knew, instinctively what to do, just as he did and soon they were pressed against the back wall of the shower, the water only just managing to brush the back of his calves as he braced himself, compensating for her sudden weight in his arms; her legs were wrapped around his hips, her head thrown back as his mouth burned a fiery trail from her own swollen lips, down her neck to the tops of her breasts.

Her moan was loud in the cavernous space. He smiled against her breast as his teeth caught her nipple and she tightened against his hard mass pressing against her suddenly heated core as his lips sucked her through the wet fabric of her bra.

"Oh sweet Mary," she whispered her eyes rolling into the back of her head as the nipple pebbled under his lips.

"Anna," he groaned as her hips rocked against his, "Hold on."

She did, oh God she did.

They were still in their skivvies; he almost growled as he freed a hand from her thigh to free first himself and then to pull aside the soft cotton of her panties. As his finger brushed her outer folds she whimpered and he froze.

"Anna," he whispered, his head rising so he could meet her dazed gaze. "If you don't want this then I can stop."

She froze, her lambent gaze caught by his fierce blue eyes and she choked out a little laugh before tangling her fingers in his wet hair and yanking his head down so she could kiss him.

"Steve Rogers, Captain America, you're an idiot," she growled against his lips. When he still hesitated she pressed her cheek against his and whispered against the outer shell of his ear, "I trust you Steve." She swallowed thickly and as she pulled her head back so she could meet his gaze, he saw something click in her eyes. "I....love you," she whispered as his heart thundered in his chest.

They stood like this for a moment, their chests pressed together and he shivered as her heart matched pace with his. Anna was all around him, her scent washing over his skin, her hair brushing his cheek, tangling with his hair and he suddenly understood why some people said love was like molding two bodies together into one.

How had he gotten to this point?

How had this beautiful woman become such an integral part of his life?

Before he could think too deeply on this, he reached between them and slid his fingers deep into the folds of her core. He stroked gently at first, his eyes thoughtful as he watched her own darken and her chest heave as her breathing escalated. He knew when she was ready, when she cried out and her eyes shuddered closed; his hands trailed down her back to cup her hips firmly and slowly, so slowly he eased her down upon his hardness.

He gritted his teeth as her fingers dug into his shoulders and when he met a small resistance he paused and whispered, "I'm sorry Anna, this will hurt." And then his hips rocked and she gasped, her back arching under his hands.

He pressed her once more upon the wall of the shower and began a steady rhythm, taking care with her, taking care with himself. He could feel his muscles burning and stretching but he did not stop, did not pause.

Anna was on fire, her body yearning towards Steve; every nerve screamed for him and she didn't know how she would survive this, survive him. Rippling desire rocked through her with each thrust and she shuddered as his fingers stroked and kneaded into her flesh.

It felt like he was branding her, claiming her, body and soul.

“Anna,” he ground out through clenched jaws, “look at me.”

Her eyes flashed open when he groaned and she felt herself start to drown in the cool blue depths of his gaze. She had never felt this, never felt such storming desire or love.

Steve was beautiful like this, his eyes far darker than she had ever thought possible, his dark blonde hair tumbled in his eyes, his muscles glistening in the mist still drifting around them.

"Steve," she whispered as he brought her to the edge. "Please..."

He heard her plea and with a soft kiss, he took her over the edge. As her body shuddered into release, she thought she might have cried out but she was not sure.

Steve groaned as she tightened around his shaft and he realized he was reaching his end far sooner than he would have liked.

It had been over seventy years since Bucky had taken him to that house in London, with the widow who took in soldiers for a small fee. It had been a joke for Bucky but for Steve...

He groaned as the muscles in his thighs and ass tightened and he shuddered as he felt Anna tighten around him as well.

It may have seemed like just a few months ago, but for his body...

For his body it had been far too long.

When he felt himself reaching his climax, he pulled himself from her folds; her shuddery breath was lost in the soft roar of the water behind them and she sagged against his side as her legs lost their last strength.

Dazedly she watched his hands work along his length and within a few seconds he was done; he turned away from her and let the shower wash his hands and stomach.

He stayed that way for a while, just watching the water pool in his hands, memories and aftershocks washing over him and then his nose flared as spicy eucalyptus struck his senses once more and she was there, her hands smoothing over his back and around his hips.

He shuddered at the touch of her lips along his spine. When she pressed her cheek to his back he stretched out a hand that only shook a bit to twist the knob of the faucet, cutting the beating stream. His eyes were distant as he watched the water drain away and he almost missed Anna saying his name, her lips brushing against his back.

"Steve?" A gentle kiss. "Steve, are you all right?" A brush of fingers against the waistband of his skivvies. And he shuddered as desire once more washed through him. "Steve?" A gentle kiss. "Steve, are you all right?" A feather light stroke down the base of his spine. And he shuddered as desire once more washed through him. Then she pulled away from him and he caught a whispered, "I'm sorry..."

His head snapped up at that and he turned quickly, a small frown on his brow. He caught sight of her stepping out of the shower, her legs as shaky as a newborn colt’s, and he rushed after her, almost slipping in his haste as his foot missed the bath rug to slide against the cool tile of the bathroom floor.

"Anna. Anna wait!" She ignored him, simply wrapped a towel around herself before making for the door. He caught her elbow and turned her sharply towards him; her hip bumped the counter of the sink in the narrow space and he winced at her gasp. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his hand stretching out to brush the bone through her towel. She was staring at him, her eyes almost wild as she trembled.

He hesitated and then stroked her cheek. "Anna, what did you mean when you said you were sorry?" Her eyes dropped and she chewed on the corner of her lip for a moment. He shifted, the air cold on his shoulders and he lifted her chin gently with one finger. "Adrianna, what did you mean?"

Her gaze was captured by his once more and her throat worked as she swallowed nervously. "I didn't mean anything by it," she whispered. And then she pulled free of his touch and made her escape. He frowned as the bathroom door drifted closed with her exit and he huffed, his hair lifting off his forehead with his breath.

"Hell," he whispered as he shed his disgustingly damp skivvies before wrapping a towel around his waist and following her.

He paused in the doorway to the bathroom, his hand frozen on the doorframe as he watched her bend to pull on fresh panties. She had taken her bra off and he could just make out the soft curve of a breast and small peak of her nipple.

The sight was tantalizingly frustrating.

"Anna," he said, his voice sharper than he meant it to sound. "Anna, talk to me."

He made his way towards her, weaving between her keyboard, piles of sheet music and heaps of dirty clothes scattered haphazardly through the room. She jumped when his fingers brushed her spine and she straightened quickly, yanking her underwear into position and dodging him agilely.

Steve's heart wrenched and he choked out through numb lips, "I'm sorry if I hurt you."

She paused, in the process of pulling on a shirt over her breasts and turned towards him, shock on her face. "Steve," she gasped as she saw the shadows in his eyes. "Steve, no," she whispered as she took a tentative step towards him. She paused, her mind spinning as she tried to take stock of her body and of his.

He was standing before her, straight and proud, all chiseled muscle and tanned skin. He was beautiful, god-like. A soldier. And a superhero.

Even now, mere hours after the attack on Midtown, the worst of his wounds had healed; the only sign he had fought a hopeless battle against impossible odds and won, the dark shadows under his eyes and the faint scar shadowing his hip bone.

She shivered as she remembered his blood trickling from that wound just a couple hours ago. It was so impossible.

He was so…different.

And she was so normal. Heartbreakingly normal.

Tears pricked her eyes and she let out a hopeless laugh. “Steve,” she said as her hands rose to rest against the chiseled muscles of his stomach; his skin rippled under her fingers and she gave a watery chuckle. “Steve, you didn’t hurt me. You would never hurt me. You know that, I know that.” She sighed and let her head fall forward to rest against his chest. The tears were coming harder now, sliding from her eyes of their own volition. She shuddered as his hands rose to wrap gently around her shoulders and she felt her body start to relax in the warmth of his arms.

“What’s wrong Anna?” he asked, his voice rumbling under her ear.

She sniffed and rubbed some of her tears away, muttering as she did so “I’m not right for you Steve.”

His hands fell away from her as he took a step back, his eyes wide with shock and hurt. “’Not right’ for me? Anna!” He scoffed a sharp laugh but seeing her uncertainty and continuing distress he caught her hand and pulled her towards the bed.

Together they sagged to the mattress and he turned towards her, a small smile on his lips. “Anna,” he murmured, his hands rising to stroke her tears away and then to cup her cheeks gently between his warm and callused fingers. “Anna, look at me.” She did, finally, and his smile widened. “Don’t be ridiculous Adrianna,” he whispered as he leaned forward to press a tender kiss to her lips.

“But…” she whispered against his lips. “But you’re a-and I’m a-“ she sighed in frustration when her words failed her and rested her forehead against his. “Why would you want me Steve Rogers, Captain America? Why would you want this?” She waved her hand down her body and his eyes followed the sensual sweep of her fingers, knowing she didn’t mean for the movement to be so tantalizingly sweet and he loved her for that. Anna was so beautiful, even when she didn’t mean to be. His eyes caught sight of her tattoo once more, just peeking from under her shirt and he shivered.

“Why would I want… _this_?” he whispered as he pushed her gently back on the bed and pushed her shirt gently up. “Why would I want… _you_?” he whispered against her belly, his lips breezing gently over her skin as his fingers trailed up her legs.

Anna shivered, her skin bumping under his barely-there touch and tried to regain at least a small measure of her clarity. It was impossibly difficult, considering what his lips and fingers were doing to her. “Steve,” she ground out as her fingers knotted in the blankets beneath her. “Steve, please, listen to me.”

He paused, his fingers just edging under the hem of her panties, which were damp once more and his eyebrow rose. She shivered as her hips bucked her so slightly into his touch and her eyelids fluttered as his fingers brushed her, so infuriatingly gentle against her flesh.  
“Oh God,” she whispered, her eyes squeezing shut against the rippling desire gripping her once more.

His soft chuckle almost brought her to the edge once more.

“Anna you are the right girl for me,” he murmured as he leaned forward over her, his fingers still resting against her folds. “Why are you so worried?”

Her dark eyes snapped open to meet his own and she gasped out, her words spilling from her tongue before she could stop them. “Because I’m a singer at a burlesque, I’m raising my little brother on my own, I never graduated college and I live in a crappy apartment in Brooklyn.” She sighed, her hand rising to stroke his cheek, before continuing, her voice tight with emotion, “And you’re…you. You’re Captain America, impossible however that may be and you’re a superhero.” Her hand fell from his cheek and as his mouth opened, she turned away, curling into herself as she prepared for his agreement. His hands left her skin and she shivered, the sudden feeling of abandonment collapsing down around her. “I’m not the woman you deserve Steve,” she whispered.

Her eyes closed tightly as more tears slid down her cheeks and she tensed as he curled himself around her, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her against his chest.

“Anna,” he whispered, his soft breath brushing her hair as he leaned into her shoulder. “Anna, you’re ridiculous. You are the right woman for me. You’re the perfect partner for this impossible dance of mine. I have never felt this way about anyone. Anna, please.” His voice cracked as he rested his forehead against her shoulder and his body shuddered against hers as he sighed. “Please…”

She lay in his arms like this for a moment, her body snug against his, and she remembered that first morning after she’d finally gotten him to sleep, waking up in his arms, cradled against his chest.

She had never felt so safe. Never felt so loved.

She turned her head towards him, glancing at him over her shoulder and asked the only question that mattered.

“Why me?”

He smiled, and pressed a kiss against her shoulder. Then he whispered, “Because you made me feel human again.”

She had no answer for that.


	19. The Gate

Knock-knock

Roberto froze in the middle of pouring himself another bowl of super sugary knock-off cocoa puffs and ducked his head around the kitchen doorframe.

Knock...knock...

"Anna?" he whispered to the silent apartment. Nothing. 

He swallowed nervously and glanced towards the front door. Who was here at 7 in the morning? It wouldn't be Anita. She never got up this early on a Saturday. It was the one day of the week that her husband Kurt could take the twins so she could have a morning to herself. 

So it wasn't Anita. 

And he was pretty sure Steve hadn't left the apartment last night. Considering his shield was still sitting by the door. 

Roberto took a tentative step forward as the silver star glinted dully in the dim light coming from the living room. 

Whoever was on the other side of the door was quiet now but he could see their shadow moving through the gap at the bottom of the door. 

"Who's there?" he called as he crept down the front hallway. His voice shook and he cringed, his lip disappearing between his teeth as he waited to see if the crazed axe-man at his door would answer. 

Silence, and then, "Candy-gram for the dirty old man sleeping here," said a man's voice. 

Roberto jumped and snatched Steve's shield up into his arms. 

He gasped as he almost dropped it; the thing was heavier than it looked but he managed to pull it onto his arm. It covered most of him, from his chin to the middle of his thighs. He was suddenly struck by what he held and he almost dropped the shield again as his body started to shake with barely contained excitement. Captain America's shield...

Then, armed by the one thing he'd idolized his entire life, he swept open the front door. 

To reveal a blonde man in dark sunglasses, a pinkish shirt and dark jeans standing beside a beautiful red-headed woman in heeled boots and a tan leather jacket. 

"Uhh..." Roberto said, his arms shaking with the impossible weight of the shield. "Hi?" 

The blonde man's lips twitched slightly and he glanced at the woman beside him. "Does Captain America seem shorter to you, Tash?"

She nodded, her green eyes sparkling. "Definitely. The Director won't be happy about that," she said, laughter in her smooth voice. 

Roberto jumped and turned his eyes back to her. "Hey! I talked to you on the phone yesterday!" 

She cocked her head and chuckled. "You must be Roberto. Hi," she said as she held her hand out for him to shake. 

He gazed at it in surprise and shooting a glance at first her and then the man in sunglasses, shifted the shield and stretched his arm around the edge to place his hand in hers. She smiled as the shield finally dropped with a vibrating clang to the floor and the man chuckled as he reached out to help the kid lift it. 

"Easy, tiger," he muttered as he held it up. "Don't want to chip this ancient relic. Don't think the old man would like that." 

Roberto's eyes were wide as he took both people in and then he blurted, "Are you superheroes too?" 

The woman shifted, glancing over her shoulder at the empty hallway they stood in as her partner chuckled. "How about we head on into your apartment, kid," he said, his hands still firmly clasped around the shield Roberto clutched. "Don't want to stand in this drafty hallway all morning." 

Roberto swallowed, his eyes darting around nervously and then he nodded. "Um, okay. But if you try anything I'll call the cops," he said as he backed further into the apartment, narrowly missing hitting the coat rack near the door with the edge of the shield. 

The blonde man chuckled dryly as the woman closed the front door behind them and saluted the still nervous kid. 

"No problem," he said as he pulled his glasses off and slid them into the front of his pinkish t-shirt. His eyes were a pale blue, lighter than Steve's, almost gray and Roberto was suddenly struck by the thought that this man didn't miss much. He may give off the appearance of a funny grunt, but the way he held himself and the quiet consideration in his gaze spoke of great intelligence and heightened awareness. 

If anyone was a superhero...it was this guy. 

And the woman?

She was dangerous, Roberto thought. But not the scary, bad guy kind of dangerous. More like...the Catwoman kind of dangerous. All cold calculation and deadly calm. 

"You were on the bridge fighting with the Captain yesterday," he blurted as he finally set the shield down. His arms shook as the shield settled at his feet with a dull vibration and he couldn't help as a small sigh of relief slipped his lips at the loss of pressure on his joints. "You were on his team," he continued, his eyes wide as he stared at her. 

She nodded, her lips still lifted in a small smile and she said as she leaned against the outer wall of the kitchen, "And you're the kid the Cap's so devoted to." 

Roberto didn't know how to respond to that and they all fell silent, their eyes locked on each other's and then the man shifted, his eyes settling on the dark hallway behind Roberto and he asked, "The old man's still here, right, kid? He didn't leave for a late night jaunt, did he?"

Roberto frowned. "Old man? Who are you talking about?"

The woman snorted and pushed off the wall. "He means Steve Rogers, kid," she said as she headed towards the living room. "Barton thinks he's funny." She glanced over her shoulder at her partner and cocked an eyebrow. "You keep it up, somebody's going to punch you, and it won't be me." 

She disappeared into the living room where Roberto's Saturday morning cartoons were still going and the blonde man, apparently named Barton snorted, "Yeah, if it was you Tash I wouldn't survive it," he muttered. Turning back to the kid he clapped his hands together and said, his voice suddenly business-like, "Right. So, we need the Captain and he's here. So, where can I find him Boy-Wonder?" 

Roberto hesitated and then nodded towards the hallway. "I think he's in my sister's room," he said quietly, his eyes lowered to the shield he still held. "He, uh, didn't leave last night." 

Barton's eyes narrowed as he took in the kid's bowed head and then he chuckled. "I bet he didn't," he said dryly. He moved past the kid, only pausing to tousle Roberto's hair and say, "You did good keeping an eye on 'em Robbie." 

And then he made his way down the hall, not bothering to flick on a light as he went. 

Roberto gazed after him, a small part of him wondering how the guy had known he'd been up all night keeping watch in the living room and doing nothing but watching CNN and MSNBC's coverage of Midtown. 

Then he sighed, shrugged and made his way into the living room where the red-head sat sprawled on the couch munching the leftover trail mix he'd snacked on all night. 

She was avidly watching the toon he'd abandoned halfway through and she glanced at him as he sat down in the easy chair, still clutching the shield, and asked, "Why does the Joker always try to push Batman into a vat of acid? Doesn't he realize the guy always has an escape route up his handy-dandy utility belt?" 

She snorted and shook her head before he could respond, muttering about how she wished she had a utility belt for missions and all Roberto could do was stare at her. 

He tried to ignore the voices coming from down the hall. 

**

He woke first, his mind snapping out of sleep so suddenly his body jerked in shock. His blue eyes were wide as he gazed about the room he slept in and it took him nearly 10 seconds to remember where he was. 

Who he was with. 

He froze as the slender person he held shifted in his arms and murmured in her sleep. His eyes flashed down and his arms tightened around her waist instinctively. 

"Anna," he breathed, wonder and love in his voice as he gazed on her sleeping face. Her body was cradled by his, their legs tangled with each other's and she was truly beautiful in the soft grey light filtering through the curtains of her bedroom. 

Memories of the night before made his cheeks flush and his lips lifted in a soft smile as he bent his head to press a tender kiss to her bare shoulder. 

She had said she loved him last night.

He'd told her she was the right woman for him.

It was so right, lying here with her in his arms. It was so perfect. 

Never once had he thought of Peggy Carter. Never once had he thought of the War, of those he had lost. Never once had he hoped he was doing what he should. 

He had never once questioned himself. 

It had felt good. To love her. To be loved by her. 

And it felt good to hold her now, to feel her body mold itself to his, to feel their breath and heartbeats slow to match the other's. 

He never wanted to leave her. 

"Anna," he whispered, his lips trailing over the skin of her shoulder to press at the hollow beneath her ear. "Anna, can you hear me?"

She murmured, her body rocking back against his as he stirred against her hips. Her feet brushed his legs as his knee rose to press against her butt and she sighed, the sound soft in the still room. 

He smiled, his blue eyes sparkling, his hands smoothing up her belly to cup her breasts. "Anna, come back to me," he whispered, his teeth biting gently at her ear lobe. 

Her voice was muffled as she turned it into the pillow and he thought she might have said, "No, go away." 

He chuckled and began feathering kisses down her neck, over her shoulders and down her arms. "I don't want to go away Anna," he whispered, lifting her hand to press kisses along her curled fingers. "I don't want to leave you." 

She sighed and finally her eyes were opening and he was lost in their warm depths as he leaned over her. 

"Hi," she whispered, a sleepy smile lifting her lips. "I was afraid you were just a dream." 

Her hand, the one not caught in his, lifted to stroke his cheek and his eyes fluttered closed at her tender touch. As her hand trailed down his face he turned his head so he could press a kiss to her palm. 

"I'm not a dream," he said, his voice husky as hot desire began to ripple up the length of his spine. 

She chuckled and turned so she lay on her back beside him. The sheet slid over her skin like water and he shivered as he bent his head to plant a kiss to her breast. 

She gasped at the feel of his lips on her through the thin cotton and her hand rose to tangle in his hair. 

"Steve," she whispered as his hands smoothed down her body to grip her hips. "Please..."

"Please tell me you two actually got some sleep last night," said a dry voice from the doorway. 

Anna shrieked and snatched the sheet up over her breasts as she scooted to the head of the bed, her eyes locked on the shadowy figure leaning in her doorway. 

Steve turned, a silent snarl on his face as he prepared to attack the intruder but he froze, mid crouch at the sight of Agent Clint Barton sauntering into the room, his hands shoved in the pockets of his black jeans and a knowing smirk on his lips. 

"Hey Cap," he said as he stopped at the foot of Anna's bed. He glanced at her and tipped two fingers to his brow in a small salute. "Ma'am." 

Anna only stared, her hair tumbled around her shoulders and her eyes wide as she tried to process the sudden appearance of this strange man in her bedroom. 

Steve stood slowly, grabbing one of the blankets thrown over the foot of her bed to wrap around his nakedness. "Barton, what are you doing here?" he snapped, his blue eyes icy in the soft light of the room. 

Barton gazed thoughtfully at the Captain, his train of thought following dangerously close to Tony Stark's from the previous evening as he reflected on how their stoic Captain looked standing beside the dark haired Italian beauty huddled at the top of the bed. 

Who would have thought their icy 94 year old Captain had it in him to rendezvous with a burlesque performer? 

The silence was tense now and Barton's lips twitched in a small smirk as he watched Rogers' hand tighten into a fist. 

"Easy old man," he said as he rested one knee on the mattress of the bed. "Don't get your panties, or lack thereof, in a knot." 

Steve took a deep breath and glanced at Anna, who's cheeks were so red she almost matched the bed's comforter. Turning back to Barton he said, his voice only marginally calmer, "What is it Agent? What do you need?" 

Barton cocked his head in consideration and glanced from the Captain to the girl and snorted. "You forgot, didn't you?" he said, disbelief in his voice. "Stark was right. He said you wouldn't stand a chance once you got here and he was right." He sighed. "I owe him 10 bucks now. Never thought it'd be possible." Coming around to the side of the bed he held his hand out towards Anna, and with a cheeky smirk said, "Congrats lady, you've managed to corrupt a pillar of American patriotism!" 

Anna stared at him, her eyes wider still and then with a soft chuckle she freed one hand from its death grip on her sheet and placed it tentatively in his. "Thanks, I guess," she said as he pumped her hand up and down. She cleared her throat, glanced at a thunderously scowling Steve and back before asking, "And you are?"

He laughed as he dropped her hand and gestured towards Steve, "I'm one of his team, ma'am. I'm the clever one with the bow." 

Her eyebrows rose as she relaxed and she couldn't help a small laugh from escaping her lips, "A bow? Like a bow and arrow kind of bow?" 

Steve spoke up then, his voice calm now as he smiled. "Agent Clint Barton is one of the best marksmen I've had the chance to work with," he said as he looked around for his clothes. 

She glanced at him and pointed at the bureau on the opposite wall. "Bottom drawer big man," she muttered then she turned back to Agent Barton who was watching them carefully, calculation in his icy gaze. "So it's true," she asked as she relaxed against her pillows, her eyes sparkling as she took in the blonde man with the light blue eyes. "You two are part of a squad of superheroes?"

Barton snorted and glanced at Steve who was pulling on a pair of khakis over his boxers. "You doubt him?" he asked pointing his thumb in the blonde behemoth's direction. "Did you see his shield lady? Did you see his uniform?"

Anna's brow furrowed slightly as she glanced at Steve who was heading towards the bathroom, his plaid shirt open over his chest. 

"Yeah, I saw the uniform," she whispered, her mind spinning as she remembered the scale of those blue scales in her hands. Turning back to Barton as the bathroom door clicked closed, she asked, "What did he forget?" 

Barton's eyes narrowed and he straightened from his nonchalant slouch against her bedside table and shook his head. "Sorry, can't tell you that," he said slowly, his eyes suddenly cold in the soft light of the room.

Anna hesitated and then nodded. "All right," she mused as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. 

Barton watched as she wrapped her sheet around herself in a makeshift toga and then, as she started to make her way towards the bathroom he stopped her. "Look, lady," he said, his voice quiet, rushed. 

She glanced at him, her brow arched and she said, just as quietly, "Anna, my name's Anna." 

He hesitated and then nodded. "Right, Anna. Right." He cleared his throat and then asked, "Are you serious about the Captain?"

She stared at him for a moment, her eyes wide and then she choked out a laugh. "Are you serious? You're making sure my intentions are honorable about Steve?"

He nodded and she smiled. "Look, Agent Barton," she said as she turned back to him, "Steve and I have been through a lot, even before everything that happened yesterday. Other than my friend Anita he's the only one I'd trust to take care of my little brother. I don't know what you know about me, but I'm assuming you're asking this because he's your friend and the leader of your team and probably because you know what I do for a living. Am I right?"

He hesitated and then nodded. "Anna, I-" he started but she stopped him. 

"Just because I sing in a burlesque doesn't mean I'm a trollop or somebody set out to corrupt your starry Captain America, Agent Barton," she said coldly. She started to turn away, but then she stopped and said, her voice low and fierce as she poked him firmly in the chest, "I first knew him as Steve Rogers and now I love him as Steve Rogers. I couldn't care less about the uniform or the shield. He's a man who deserves love as much as the next one and I'm going to give it to him." 

Barton and Anna stared at each other for a moment, sizing each other up and when Steve cleared his throat from the bathroom doorway they both jumped and turned towards him; Steve's lips twitched as he took in Barton's sheepish smile and Anna's flaming cheeks and he chuckled. 

"Well, are you two getting acquainted then?"

Barton smirked and draped his arms over the woman’s shoulders. “Yeah, you have a spitfire here Cap,” he murmured. Then he glanced at Anna and ducked his head to whisper something in her ear; her eyes widened but before Steve or she could question the Agent, he was gone, shouting over his shoulder, “You know where to go Rogers. We’ll see you in an hour. Be there or Stark will kill you himself.” 

Steve stared after his partner and then turned to Anna, who was staring at the door with calculation in her eyes. “Anna,” he said slowly as he took a step towards her, “what did Barton say to you?”

She jumped, her cheeks flaming slightly and she laughed. “What? Oh nothing! You should go Steve, it sounds like something important is happening.” 

He caught her elbow as she passed him, a small frown on his brow. “Anna…” 

She shushed him and cupped his cheeks gently between her hands. “It’s nothing big man,” she whispered as she pressed a kiss to his lips. “Now go. I’ll be here when you get back.” 

He hesitated and she pushed him gently. “Go on Steve.” 

He caught her to him, then, his big hands smoothing down her back as he dragged her, sheet and all against his chest and he whispered as he kissed her, “You are so impossible.” Then he sighed and rested his forehead against hers. “I love you Adrianna Conti,” he whispered. 

She smiled and stroked his cheek. “I know,” she whispered. “I love you Captain America.” 

“Be safe,” he said as he lowered her and backed away. 

And then he was gone. 

Anna stared after him, her fingers resting against her lips and her mind spinning with Agent Barton’s whispered words. 

She had a decision to make. 

Either go against what she suspected was Steve’s wishes and probably his teammates or stay home and wait for him to come back. 

As she moved towards the bathroom to start getting cleaned up for the day, she chuckled, her eyes darkening as she realized what she had to do. 

Adrianna Conti had never been one to just sit around waiting for her knight in shining armor to return to her. 

Even if he was a pillar of American patriotism. 

An hour later she was dressed and ready for a visit to Central Park. 

As she paused in the living room doorway she glanced in to see her brother curled around Steve’s shield, asleep. Her lips twitched in a small smile and she leaned in the doorway. “Hey nerd,” she called softly. 

He snapped awake, sitting upright almost immediately and gasped when he saw her. “Anna! What are you-where are you-Where’s Steve?” he sputtered as he took in what his older sister was wearing. 

She straightened and executed a little spin. “Steve left a while ago ‘Berto,” she said as she stilled. “So. How do I look?” she asked as she placed her hands on her hips. 

Roberto whistled between his teeth and shook his head, something like awe in his eyes. “Well sis,” he said with a laugh. “I think you could say you’re dressed to kill.” 

She chuckled and nodded. “Perfect,” she murmured as she turned to go. Glancing at him over her shoulder she said with a smile, “I’ll be back later, baby. Don’t burn the place down!”

He watched as she shrugged into her leather coat and muttered when the door closed behind her, “You do the same sis.”

And then he went back to his toons, his arms still wrapped around Captain America’s shield. 

**

They sent Loki and Thor back to Asgard. 

Steve had to admit, he was glad the war criminal was out of SHIELD’s hands. There was something disturbing about the thought of a god being held by an agency which had already proved it was capable of corruption. 

But seeing Thor’s dangerous scowl as he gripped his brother’s arm, Steve wondered if Loki’s punishment on Asgard was going to be as easy to bear as the Director feared it would be. 

Somehow, he doubted it. 

“Goodbye Thor,” he said as the blonde god approached him. He held out his hand for the Asgardian to shake and gasped when he was instead yanked into the other man’s arms and pounded firmly upon the back. 

“Farewell my brother,” Thor said, his deep voice echoing around them. “You fought honorably against our foe and know that I hold you in the highest regard.”

Steve smiled weakly and nodded. He would never get used to these Asgardians, he realized as Thor swept past him to say goodbye to Bruce Banner and Tony Stark. 

It was bittersweet saying farewell to him; none of them knew when the blonde god would return to Earth or even if he would be able to. As he clapped the men on the shoulder and bent nearly double to kiss Natasha Romanov’s cheek, Steve realized he was going to miss the giant. 

It was amazing, watching these people shepherd Loki into the center of Betheseda Terrace, to remember that 3 days ago they had all been at each other’s throats, on the verge of destroying whatever hope Fury had placed in them. 

Now they were a team, a team of impossible people. 

And, somehow, they were friends. 

“So, Barton says you had a good night Cap.” 

Steve turned slowly to see Tony Stark and Bruce Banner watching him from across the Terrace. He frowned and slipped his hands in his pockets before heading in their direction, crossing over the spot where Loki and Thor had just vanished in a column of twisting blue light. 

The Tesseract was out of their hands. 

It was back with the All Father.

As it should be. 

“I had a very pleasant evening Stark,” he muttered as he neared the two scientists. Banner was watching him thoughtfully, almost as if Steve himself was a fascinating science experiment that needed off of its processes studied. He shifted uncomfortably under the scientist’s dark gaze and turned back to Stark, who was smirking. “When are we meeting at the Tower?” Steve asked, hoping to change the subject. 

It didn’t work. 

“Oh not for a while yet. The uh, Tower’s in a bit of a shambles now. So what’s your beautiful Italian dame’s name? Anyone I know?” Stark’s eyes were glittering from behind the lenses of his dark glasses and Steve sighed. 

“It’s none of your business, Stark,” Steve muttered as he started to make his way off the Terrace to head for the cars and his motorbike. 

He didn’t get far. At that moment Agent’s Barton and Romanov appeared, the latter holding Dr. Banner’s belongings and the former smirking as he gazed from Stark to Steve. 

“He told you about his lady friend yet, Stark?” Barton asked, his eyes hidden behind his dark glasses.

Stark sighed forlornly as Banner took his bag from Agent Romanov and said, “No, he hasn’t, the ice-cube. I guess I’ll just have to find out on my own.”

Barton snorted and glanced over his shoulder towards the parked cars surrounded by SHIELD agents. “Or you could meet her yourself. There’s a beautiful Italian singer currently sprawled across Rogers’ bike over there.” 

Steve froze, his eyes widening and his head snapped in the direction of the cars. He could just make out his bike and sure enough he could just make out a bit of bright red. “Anna,” he whispered as suddenly he was running, bounding agilely down the stairs towards the park street. 

He could see her, leaning on his bike and chatting casually with two of the SHIELD handlers. He barely heard Stark chuckling behind him or Dr. Banner’s quiet voice asking what he had missed. 

All he saw was his girl, dressed in a beautiful red dress with her gently waved hair tumbled down her back. 

She turned when she heard his feet crunch in the gravel of the road and his heart wrenched at the smile that flashed across her lips. 

“Anna,” he said at the same time she said, “Steve!”

They froze and Steve laughed, a little breathlessly. “What are you doing here?”

She smiled and brushed past the two SHIELD agents who’d been keeping a watch on her to place her hands on his waist. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him and as she pulled away she glanced over his shoulder and murmured, “A little bird told me you might be here today.” 

He looked over his shoulder in time to see Barton’s cocky salute before he climbed into the silver SHIELD issue car he and his partner arrived in and he sighed. “I should have known that’s what Barton whispered in your ear,” he said as he turned back to his girl. She smiled, a little tentatively and he sighed. “You’re going to be trouble aren’t you Adrianna Conti?”

She chuckled and kissed his jaw. “Oh probably,” she whispered as his hands tightened around her. 

“Good,” he murmured against her hair. “I wouldn’t have you any other way.” 

She laughed, the sound warm in the soft May sunlight and he shivered. 

This girl was so stunning, so perfect, so damn right and she was his. 

“I love you Adrianna,” he whispered against her ear as he helped her onto the bike. 

She caught his hand and stroked his cheek, her eyes so dark they were almost black and she smiled. “And I love you Steve Rogers, Captain America.”


	20. Fall Through the Ropes:  The Beginning

Three Weeks Later

"Keep your fists up Roberto. That's right. Now hit me! Go on, you're not going to hurt me, just throw a good solid right hook."

Roberto hesitated, his eyes shadowed by the headgear he wore, and he said, his voice only slightly muddled by the guard shoved against his teeth, “Bu’ yu’ no’ wraring ‘ear ‘Eve”

Steve chuckled and kept his palms up. “I don’t need gear. Come on Roberto, you have to get used to hitting solid flesh. It’s different than hitting canvas. You’re not going to hurt me.”

Roberto swallowed nervously and then nodded. He pounded his gloves together for a moment and then, taking a deep breath, settled into a tight boxer’s stance, his gloves up near his chin.

Steve waited, ever patient, his eyes watchful as he noted the kid’s stance and then his determination. He saw in his eyes when the kid decided to hit him and he almost smiled.

Roberto was going to be lethal when he got older.

“Go on,” he murmured his muscles tensing as he prepared for the blow, however tentative it may be. “Don’t be afraid.”

And Roberto swung.

Steve gasped as the kid feinted from a right hook and into a left jab, succeeding on getting inside his guard before Steve even had a chance to react. Before he knew it the airhad been knocked from his lungs and he was down on his knees.

Roberto panicked. “Steve!” he shouted as he spat his guard out and bent over the gasping man before him. “Steve! Oh my God I’m sorry! I thought you were ready! I shouldn’t have feinted! Oh my God…”

He trailed off as he realized Steve’s gasps had turned to laughter and he frowned. “Steve?” he asked, suddenly tense as he wondered if the man was making fun of him.

And then Steve held his fist out and with tears streaming down his face he choked, “Good job kid! You got me on my knees. That never happens.”

Roberto hesitated and then raised his own gloved fist so he could bump it with the Captain’s. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked as he helped Steve up.

Steve smiled ruefully and rubbed his stomach. “Yeah, I’m good Roberto,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. “I think I’m getting old, I wasn’t ready for that.”

Roberto swallowed and glanced at the lacing of his gloves. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have feinted, that wasn’t fair.”

“No, stop!” Steve said as he bent towards the kid. “That’s what boxing is kid! You caught me off guard. That’s good. It means you’re learning. Don’t apologize.”

Roberto hesitated and then nodded, a small smile on his lips. “Did you see my footwork?” he asked excitedly as he held out his arms so Steve could start unlacing his gloves. “I never thought I could move so fast! I was so nervous but I just took a deep breath and remembered what you told me and before I knew it I was inside of your guard and it was awesome!”

Steve listened to the kid’s chatter with half an ear, a small smile on his lips. He couldn’t help being proud of Roberto; he’d come far in the months since Steve had started teaching him how to box.

Some of it was instinct, of course. He’d started teaching Anna as well, whenever she wasn’t at work, and if there was one thing he’d learned about the Conti’s, they were all raw talent in the ring. So far they were the only two who had managed to get inside of his guard.

Although with Anna…their late night bouts always ended in a different kind of K.O. on the ring floor.

His lips twitched into a wider smile and he almost missed Roberto’s gasp.

He didn’t miss the kid’s quiet voice saying his name though. “Steve, what is this?”

His head snapped up from where he’d been bent over the punching bags, absently feeling for split seams and he froze as he took in his fallen gym bag and Roberto standing beside it with a tiny red jewelry box in his hand.

“Roberto…” he said slowly as the kid opened the box.

The diamond glinted innocently in the harsh fluorescents of the gym and Steve held his breath, waiting to see what Anna’s little brother would say.

Silence. And then, “It’s beautiful.”

Steve sighed, the tenseness in his shoulders easing as he approached the kid, who still stared at the delicate engagement ring nestled in velvet in the little box.

“It was my mother’s,” he said as he took the box from the kid. He stared at it for a moment and then snapped the lid closed. “Somehow it survived all of these years.”

He had Tony Stark to thank for that, of course. It seemed Howard had stored all of Steve’s belongings in a storage bunker, probably in hopes that Captain America would emerge from the ice one day to reclaim them.

Well, he had.

Stark had shown up at the gym several days before and announced he had something of Steve's.  The blonde had been confused.  That is, until Stark's chauffeur came in bearing a large metal crate marked with his name.  

His hands had shook when he'd opened it.  

Inside had been a veritable treasure trove of ancient relics from his childhood, youth and days during the War.  

Stark had smiled at his gasp and clapped him  on his shoulder.  

"Have fun with the nostalgia Cap," he'd called as he and his chaffeur had left the building. 

Steve barely heard him; he was too busy remembering his youth.

It was still a shock to see his old photo album, his sketchbooks and this ring resting innocently amongst his more modern belongings.

Roberto was staring at him, his eyes wide. Steve glanced at him and smiled before pocketing the box. “Roberto,” he said as he settled on his heels before the dark haired kid. “I know I should have asked you before I got too serious about your sister, but I’m asking you now.” He hesitated, ran his fingers through his hair and then laughed wryly. “I’m asking you if it would be okay if I asked your sister to marry me.”

The kid was quiet and then before Steve could react, his arms were wrapped around his neck and he was laughing. “You’re such a dope Captain!” he crowed. “I don’t care if you marry Anna! You can marry her right now!”

Steve chuckled and wrapped his arms around the kid, his heart swelling with love and he sighed. “Thank you Roberto. Thank you.”

Suddenly tonight didn’t seem so terrifying.

* * *

Anna got to leave the studio early Thursday afternoon three weeks after the attack on Midtown. The studio had survived the attack pretty well, only some minor damage done to the outside of the building so she’d been able to start working on the massive musical project she’d landed almost immediately, once Midtown opened to the public.

She’d been working non-stop on first one project and now 3 more. It seemed her voice was just what producers of animated pictures wanted.

Not that she was complaining. The pay was good. It meant she didn’t have to work at the diner anymore and it gave her more time with Roberto.

And Steve.

She smiled as she unlocked the apartment door to hear Roberto and Steve in the living room arguing over yet another game of Risk.

Steve had finally figured out the logistics of the game and Roberto had taken the opportunity to really let loose the full force of his pure maniacal genius.

It was always close with these two. Steve had real military experience under his belt. And Roberto had historical references to back up any moves he made.

As she set her keys and jacket down on the front table she listened to Steve’s laughing voice and Roberto’s grousing. It seemed somebody had slowly been conquering Russia while distracting his opponent by encroaching on Britain.

She smiled and shook her head before making her way to the living room door.

“Hey boys,” she said softly as she leaned in the doorway; she kept her hand holding the paper bag marked with a Brooklyn antique store’s logo, firmly behind her back.

Roberto didn’t even look at her, just waved his hand and hunched further over the board, his brow furrowed as he tried to find a way to kick Steve out of Siberia.

Even she could tell it was a lost cause.

Steve glanced up at her and smiled, a bright, loving smile that made her heart freeze in response. “Hello,” he said as he sat up from the floor. He patted the floor beside him and she chuckled.

“Hold on a second, I’ll be right there,” she said. “I want to change out of this dress and these shoes.” She twitched the soft black jersey hugging her curves and hesitated before approaching him, holding the bag out as she stopped beside him. “That’s for you,” she said with a little laugh. “You should put it in the stereo while I’m getting dressed.”

Before he could ask what it was she was heading out of the room and he stared after her, his eyes captivated by the easy swing of her hips and the soft black jersey of her dress swaying with each step she took.

“What is it?”

He jumped when Roberto spoke up and glanced at the kid before opening the paper sack she’d handed him.

A small frown furrowed his brow as he pulled out a wrapped record and Roberto chuckled. “She went to Mrs. Ferguson’s after work. Fergie always has the best records. Well? Put it in the record player Steve!”

Steve was frozen; he’d unwrapped the record thinking it was maybe a Duke Ellington or Glen Miller album. But what he held wasn’t either of those. A man in a ridiculous red, white and blue uniform with a tri-cornered shield, saluted him and he couldn’t help a slight cringe at the sight of the winged cowl shielding the poor schmuck’s face.

How had she found it?

How did these even exist anymore?

Without thinking much further on the record and how he held it in his own two hands, he rose and made for the record player which Roberto had cued up for him. Glancing at the kid, he smiled a little shakily, and then set the record on the turntable. Roberto placed the needle and they stood back as the grainy audio began to play.

_Who's strong and brave here to save the American Way?_   
_Who's vows to fight like a man for what's right, night and day?_   
_Who will campaign door to door for America?_   
_Carry the flag shore to shore for America?_   
_From Hoboken to Spokane?_

_The Star Spangled Man with a plan!_

Memories began to wash over him at the strident singing; memories of the War, of the USO girls, of Bucky and Peggy and Howard and Colonel Philips. Memories of the Commandos. Memories of Schmidt.

“No,” he whispered as his hand stretched out to stop the record; he froze though when a familiar voice, warm and living and full of love, began to sing from behind him.

_We can't ignore there's a threat and a war we must win!_   
_Who'll hang a noose on the goose-stepping goose from Berlin?_   
_Who will indeed lead the call for America?_   
_Who'll rise or fall, give his all, for America?_   
_Who's here to prove that we can?_

_The Star Spangled Man with a plan._

And then she was there, her arms wrapping around his waist as she continued singing, her voice far more beautiful than those on the record spinning before them and he felt his body relax against her touch.

_Stalwart and steady and true!_   
_(See how this guy can shoot! We tell you, there's no substitute!)_   
_Forceful and ready to defend the red, white, and blue!_   
_(The red, white and blue!)…_

When the song ended she stretched around him to lift the needle. Then she turned him gently so she could see his face.

“You are the star spangled man with a plan, Steve Rogers,” she said with a small smile on her lips as her hands ran up his chest and shoulders to rest at the back of his neck. “You’re stalwart, steady and true.”

He snorted and shook his head. “No, that’s just Captain America,” he started to say but she stopped him, rising on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. “You are a good man Steve Rogers,” she whispered as she knotted her fingers in his hair. “You are the Captain.”

He sighed and rested his forehead against hers. “You’re so impossible,” he whispered and she chuckled.

They stood like this for a moment, his hands on her hips and her hands smoothing over his neck and before they knew it they were dancing together, just slow, easy steps, their bodies swaying gently against each other’s. He sighed as he ran his fingers up her spine to cup the back of her skull and he didn’t miss the small shudder that flitted up her body at his touch.

Anna hummed a slow song, her voice vibrating through his chest as she pressed herself against him and soon she was singing.

That blasted Gershwin she’d sung the first time he’d ever laid eyes on her. His lips lifted in a knowing smile as he pressed his face into her hair and he shivered as her voice drifted over them, accompanying their easy dance.

_Summertime and the livin' is easy_   
_Fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high_   
_Oh, your daddy's rich and your ma is good-lookin'_   
_So hush, little baby; don't you cry_

_One of these mornings you're gonna rise up singing_   
_And you'll spread your wings and you'll take to the sky_   
_But till that morning, there ain't nothin' can harm you_   
_With daddy and mammy standin' by_

_One of these mornings you're gonna rise up singing_   
_And you'll spread your wings and you'll take to the sky_   
_But till that morning, there ain't nothin' can harm you_   
_With daddy and mammy standin' by…_

He stopped in the middle of the living room when she finished her song and lifted her chin so he could meet her lambent gaze.

“Anna,” he began, his voice rough as he took in her soft gaze and slightly tousled hair. She’d changed into a t-shirt and jean shorts and he could barely take his gaze away from her long, bare legs. He swallowed, suddenly nervous and she cocked her head curiously. “Anna,” he choked and then he fell to his knees before her and pulled out the little red box he’d slipped into his pocket after leaving the gym.

She froze, her eyes wide as she took in Captain America kneeling before her and the little red box in his hands and she could have sworn her heart stopped beating.  
 _This can’t be it. Oh God it can’t be_ , she thought wildly as his lips moved and his fingers clicked open the little red box.

She couldn’t hear him; all she heard was her thundering heart and the tiny voice at the back of her head whispering, _Captain America on his knees. The Captain on his knees. Stupid, listen to him!_

She jumped when she realized he was staring at her nervously and she gasped, “What?!”

Steve shifted, his eyes darting around the room as he tried to gather his courage and then he turned back to her and said as quickly as he could, “Annawillyoumarryme?”

She stared at him and then started to laugh. “Captain America,” she asked as she fell to her knees before him, “are you asking me to marry you?”

They were eye level now, each drowning in the other’s gaze and he nodded slowly. She chuckled and then leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on his lips.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I will marry you, Steve Rogers, Captain America and Avenger. Do you even have to ask?”

Steve sighed, his head falling forward to rest against hers and he gathered her hands in his so he could press a tender kiss to her knuckles.

“Thank you,” he whispered back, tears starting to prick his eyes. He cupped her left hand gently and she shivered as he stroked her fingers. Then he glanced up at her, pulled her to her feet as he himself rose, kissed her heart finger and before she could even blink, he slid his mother’s engagement ring onto her finger.

It was the perfect fit.

He stared at the small diamond for a moment and smiled.

Anna stared at the ring suddenly circling her finger and whispered breathlessly, “It’s so beautiful Steve!”

He chuckled and gathered her into his arms. “The perfect ring for the perfect girl,” he said as he dipped her gently and kissed her lips.

Both gasped as a bright flash blinded them and their heads turned in the direction of Roberto who was standing on the couch, a camera held up before his face and he chuckled.

“Hey guys,” he said as he lowered the camera and the two adults straightened. “I think this is where somebody says ‘And they lived happily ever after’! Right?”

Anna and Steve glanced at each other and then tackled the kid. He shrieked as they both tickled him and gasped, “Not fair, not fair!”

Anna planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek and then stilled, her arms around her brother and her legs thrown over Steve’s lap, who cradled them both in his arms.

Tears pricked her eyes as she gazed at her family and said softly, “I love you both so much.”

Steve froze and then he smiled, a soft, easy smile that made his eyes sparkle. “I love you both as well.”

And he hugged his family to him.

Impossible how all of this may seem, Steve Rogers, Captain America and the First Avenger, had finally found his place in the world.

And it was in a tiny sun-filled Brooklyn apartment, with an Italian singer from a burlesque and her kid brother with a love for history and a propensity for boxing.

It was the perfect beginning.

For all of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the very end guys. 
> 
> To those who have been keeping up, thank you. I love you all. 
> 
> If you like this story, don't be afraid to send me a message or to rec it. 
> 
> I'd like to thank my awesome beta and best friend. She kept me sane while balancing this story and the 3 or 4 others I was working on during Fall. 
> 
> I'd also like to thank my cousin. She's a professional boxer and she provided me with some good information on boxing as well as all of the chapter titles. In case you didn't notice, they're all boxing terms and they all have a little something to do with the chapter they're paired with. 
> 
> So love to all. 
> 
> Happy holidays! Check out my other stories. I have a few still in the works and several finished. 
> 
> Thanks again. 
> 
> -M


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